


Beyond the Veil

by IceDragoness



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Din Djarin Needs a Hug, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Good Parent Din Djarin, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Slow Burn, Soft Din Djarin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 10:16:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 47,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28847418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IceDragoness/pseuds/IceDragoness
Summary: Syn was used to people getting stabbed. It was a daily occurrence in her line of work. Having a Mandalorian collapse on her doorstep with a dagger stuck in his chest was something new though.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 96
Kudos: 180





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is a plot bunny that's been rattling around in my head since season 2 ended. It wouldn't leave me alone so I decided to write it down.
> 
> It starts before season 1 and will go through until the end of season 2. 
> 
> I'm not promising any quick updates. It's just something I'm pottering around on in my free time. Kudos and comments are much appreciated!

The exhaustion was clear in her step. The darkness hid her face, as did the heavy cloak. None of the other planet occupants paid any attention to the slumped figure walking along the darkened street. 

Her sole purpose was to get home before it got much darker. Although these parts knew the cloaked figure well, there were still plenty of figures around who weren’t local. 

Syn wrapped the cloak around herself tighter as she hurried along as fast as her aching feet would carry her. The darkness seemed to be growing with every passing second. The nights on Osoria were long enough already. Coming into the winter season made the days even shorter. The rough outer rim planet was poor and teeming with plenty of people hiding from their pasts. Some were just trying to make a living, scraping to get by in a struggling economy. Others preyed on the poor and the weak.

And those were the ones usually out during the night.

Syn turned around a corner. Despite her fatigue, the familiar landmark made her steps pick up. There were rough parts of town. Then there was this part of town. It was the only place Syn could afford to live. Walking home from work any time after sundown was the worst part of her day. 

Doors and windows were all tightly shut. Rough material covering windows made it seem even darker. All the closed windows and doors had another problem. No one could hear screaming if the worst was to happen.

Syn breathed a relieved sigh as she rounded the last corner to her tiny house. One more alleyway to cut through and she was home.

Her peaceful walk home was interrupted at the end of the alleyway five steps from her front door.

A tall figure came around the opposite end of the alleyway. Slumped against the doorway, the stranger seemed to be struggling to stay on their feet.

“Hey,” Syn called out, against her better judgment. “Are you..”

She didn’t get to finish the sentence. Whoever the figure was fell to their knees and face planted into the ground. 

Throwing caution to the wind, Syn ran over to the stranger. In the darkness, a pool of blood was already starting to spread. 

Leaning down, Syn squinted in the darkness to get a better look. The person was wearing a helmet and a large heavy cloak. As she rolled them over to try and find the injury causing so much blood loss, she nearly lost her grip at what greeted her.

A Mandalorian helmet. The heavy cloak was hiding the distinct armor on the front of the man’s body. A knife protruded from the side of his chest where the armor didn’t cover.

Without hesitation, Syn grabbed the Mandalorian underneath his arms and heaved with all of her might. Her own house was only steps away. Walking backward, Syn unceremoniously dragged the unconscious Mandalorian with her.

Despite the frigid air, she was sweating heavily in the short distance. Stopping briefly to unlock the door, Syn managed to get him inside.

With the practiced ease of getting armor off prone soldiers, Syn managed to move the breastplate enough to get a good look at the wound. The beautifully decorated hilt of a dagger greeted her.

Syn knew those decorations. Clawdite bounty hunters occasionally had them. Dipped in some exotic poison, they were designed to inflict a long, slow terrible death if the dagger didn’t kill its intended target. It was a horrible death. One that was almost always guaranteed unless the doctor knew exactly what it was. Luckily for the Mandalorian, Syn had seen this once before. 

Wasting no time, Syn began to cut away at the undershirt to get a better look at the wound. The blood was steadily pooling at her feet. Wrapping some of the cut undershirt around the dagger wound, Syn pushed against it as hard as she could.

The Mandalorian stirred beneath her touch, gasping and flailing as Syn tried her best to stem the flow of blood. A weak gurgling sound was coming from the wound. Syn knew what she had to do. If she didn’t do it soon, the poison was going to take over.

“Shh,” Syn said, stopping to touch his mask briefly. It left a stain of blood against the cold beskar. “I’m sorry this will hurt.”

Without hesitation, Syn yanked the dagger out of the wound. The man underneath her thrashed violently. 

“No,” a half lucid strained plea came from underneath the helmet.

Ignoring the plea, Syn moved quickly. Her healing kit was in a satchel around her side already. The long day had diminished her supplies. Shaking them out onto the floor, while keeping the pressure on the wound, Syn felt a stab of helplessness. This needed more than she had in the pitiful handful of supplies.

Still, she had worked with worse wounds with a lot less than was scattered on her floor now. 

Throwing the blood sodden rag aside, Syn grabbed her last field dressing and clamped it down on the free flowing wound. With her free hand, she tore open a package of blood clotting powder.

“I’m going to put clotting powder in,” Syn began to describe what she was going out of habit. “Otherwise you’re going to bleed to death before I can do anything else.”

A strangled groan was her only answer. 

Rolling the Mandalorian onto his side, Syn did exactly as she said. Knowing what was coming next, she held down the injured warrior with all of her strength. 

He struggled with all of his might. The only saving grace was Syn knew it was coming. Unlike most of her patient’s he didn’t scream. The powder used to stop the bleeding was excruciating. It felt like being burnt alive. Syn had gotten it in tiny cuts many times and felt like her hands had been on fire. He stopped struggling quicker than Syn anticipated, allowing her to get back to work.

The wound quickly stopped bleeding, letting Syn get a closer look at it. Wiping the excess blood away, she cringed at what greeted her. The edges of the wound had already turned black with ugly red lines. The poison was in his system. 

“I’m sorry Mandalorian but this is going to hurt even more,” Syn said with a tired sigh.

Getting up, she made her way to a locked cupboard underneath the sink. There was a safe that held the last few precious and rare supplies she’d managed to acquire over the years. The biometric reader to open the safe was the only thing in the house that was high tech. 

The pouch of foul smelling powder was exactly what Syn needed. Opening it, the smell made her gag instantly. The stench filled the house and it would take at least a week for the smell to stop lingering. Holding her breath, Syn quickly mixed it with water. 

Kneeling down beside the still figure, Syn grabbed a handful of the stinking poultice. As she was about to put it on the wound, a gloved hand caught her wrist.

“No,” the Mandalorian said again. “You leave me. This is the way.”

His grip was loose enough the Syn was easily able to escape his grasp. 

“Unluckily for you, I’m a proper doctor and it isn’t my way to let a patient die when I could have helped them,” Syn said firmly. “I do apologize in advance for this.”

Without waiting for a reply, Syn slapped her hand down over the wound, coating it in the foul smelling poultice. 

This time he did scream. Syn tried to keep him as still as possible. His flailing limbs were making it near impossible. She caught sight of the vambrace a second too late before it connected with her face.

The force of the blow knocked Syn back onto her back. The pain made stars explode before her eyes. Grabbing the injured part of her face with her clean hand, Syn leapt back onto the thrashing figure.

It felt like an eternity before he was still again. The ragged breathing sounded worse than before. Fresh blood coated both of them and left a mess on the floor.

Syn was breathing heavily herself. Her face was rapidly swelling, leaving little vision out of one eye. The burning pain just below her eye distinctly felt like a broken bone. She had them before and unfortunately knew exactly what it felt like. 

Ignoring her rapidly closing eye, Syn quickly got up and washed her hand of the poultice. Her tiny house stank already and with the combined coppery taste of blood, made her empty stomach rebel harshly. Once her hands were clean, she dug through the cupboards in search of anything she could use as bandaging. Her meager supplies were looking emptier than usual. She had nothing at all.

Syn looked down and the grey cloak caught her eye. It was tattered at the edges but looked to be heavy material. Chewing on her lip, she made a snap decision.

“I’m going to have to use your cloak for bandages because I’m out,” Syn explained calmly as she knelt down again. “There’s been a new band of bad guys moving through town and I’m stitching up more wounds than I care to count.”

There was no reply except for the continued ragged breathing. 

With a struggle, Syn managed to free the cloak. With more practice of doing this than she thought she would ever have, she cut the thick material into long strips. Whatever the cloak was made out of, it was exceptional material. Syn fingers lingered along it, enjoying the texture of the well spun fabric. It made her think of better days.

Forcing those thoughts away, she knelt down beside her patient again. On his side, it was going to be impossible to bandage the wound properly.

“Okay, Mandalorian,” Syn said, more to herself than to her patient. He was showing no signs of being conscious. “This is going to require you to put your big boy beskar on and sit up.”

Not waiting for a reply, Syn dragged him into a sitting position. Using the wall behind her as support, she sat behind him and held up the heavy figure. Not wanting to disturb the rest of the complicated armor of her body, she began to wrap around his chest. 

With her now swollen shut eye and tired hands, it took far longer than she anticipated. The Mandalorian’s body was heavy and slumped awkwardly against her. When she was done, Syn stayed in the same position, closing her eyes.

She could fall asleep. It wasn’t the worst position she had ever slept in or the most uncomfortable. At least the heavy body in front of her was warm. 

Knowing the side effects of the poultice, that wouldn’t last though. As effective as it was for drawing out any poison known, it also had horrible side effects. The first gave the patient chills, followed by an impossibly high fever. The fever was enough to kill a person. That’s if the infection didn’t get them first. 

With that thought fresh in her mind, Syn untangled herself from the heavy figure. Laying him down as gently as she could on the rough wooden floorboards. Moving to the smaller room that served as a bedroom, Syn collected blankets and a pillow and took them back out into the main room.

The Mandalorian was hadn’t moved an inch from where she’d left him. His ragged breathing could be easily heard in the quiet room. Even though it was gurgling and sounded labored, his breathing was the best Syn hoped for right now.

Throwing the heavy blankets over the unconscious body, she sat back against the wall, closing her eyes. Wrapped her own thin cloak around her, Syn was comfortable enough. It would get cold later, but that was far from her mind.

Even before the Mandalorian had shown up, it had been a long day for her. Syn was the local doctor, dealing with everything from wounds from bar fights the night before to helping a Twi’lek deliver another offspring. There were all kinds of species living on Osoria. It had been a learning experience when Syn first came. Now very little rattled her.

A Mandalorian was new for her though.

Syn stretched her memory back to days where she had every book available to her and spending hours pouring over anything she could get her hand on. She could only recall very vague memories of a war against the Jedi and a civil war. The armor was the only thing she could remember because of how distinguished it was. 

Sleep tugged at her. The more she tried to remember, the more the exhaustion took over.

A muffled groan jolted her back awake. It was darker than before, showing hours had passed. It felt like seconds to her. 

Scrambling over on her hands and knees, Syn found the Mandalorian flat on his back. His teeth were chattering and he was clutching at the wound on his side.

“You’re all right.” Syn instantly grabbed another blanket, throwing it over him. “It’s a side effect of the poultice I put on it to draw the poison out. That and this hell hole is always cold.”

There was no response. Not that she expected one anyway. 

“I’ll get a fire started,” Syn continued, rubbing her eyes. She hissed in pain at her aching face. The swollen shut eye was really sore now. She wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep. Now she was up and moving, it really was freezing in the little house. “Maybe even some dinner.”

Glancing out the window, the pitch back of night meant it was closer to breakfast than dinner. Syn breathed out, seeing her own breath misting in the frosty air. 

With practiced ease, she had the fire going in a few minutes. The little stove wasn’t much but it did a good job of warming up at least the main room. In the dead of winter, Syn would drag her bed out into the room to not freeze to death. 

From there, she contemplated her next move. 

Moving her patient was going to take a lot more strength than she had in her right now. It also had the risk of worsening the bleeding. The poultice was already taking effect. She could see him unconsciously wrapping his arms and shivering, despite the pile of blankets on him. 

The only other thing she could do was take a pillow and do her best to keep her patient warm. 

Shedding her outer layer of clothing, Syn crawled underneath the heavy nest of blankets. Cautiously she edged as close as she could towards the Mandalorian so they were just touching. The warmth was enough to put her back to sleep quickly.


	2. Chapter 2

A knock on the door jolted Syn awake. She was wildly disorientated and when she tried to move, she found herself stuck. Only one of her eyes wanted to work. 

Another more urgent sounding knock made Syn force herself to wake up properly. Her one good eye focused on a chest piece of armour. Strong arms were keeping her in place.

It had been a long time since Syn had been in anyone’s arms. Right now the Mandalorian’s arms were holding her up against his chest. They were both pressed together tightly. Syn took a quick moment to press her hand against the bare skin just visible on his neck. His skin was ice cold but there was a steady jump of a pulse beneath her fingers. 

He stirred briefly at her touch. Syn waited a moment before he settled again, his breathing deep and steady. He was still alive and that was all she needed right now. Wriggling out of his tight grip proved to be more difficult than Syn anticipated. It was an unfamiliar feeling as Syn worked her way free. 

As she got free, Syn scrambled for the door. Unlocking the multiple latches, she yanked it open as another knock came.

Yanking it open, she came face to face with two young Twi’lek girls. Syn instantly relaxed, recognising them instantly. They were the oldest girls of the mother who’s baby she delivered yesterday. 

“We baked you this,” the taller of the pair proclaimed proudly, holding up a wrapped package. “Mama said to give it to you while it’s hot.”

The smell instantly made Syn’s mouth water. Their mother ran the local bakery and she was the sole reason Syn hadn’t starved to death when she first arrived. And every change of moon since then as well. 

“Thank you girls,” Syn said brightly, her smile not forced. “I appreciate it. Make sure you tell your mother to stay off her feet?”

The two exotic looking Twi’lek girls nodded vigorously before bounding off in the snowy morning. Syn’s breath misted in the air as she closed the door, feeling half frozen already. The warm bundle in her hands was a stark contrast to the freezing morning. Her empty stomach made itself known as the smell of spices and fresh bread wafted up to her nose.

Imanjil, the Twi’lek mother knew Syn far too well. Syn could barely pronounce the name of the fruit and spice filled bread. But it was her favourite. 

Tearing off a large chunk of the still hot bread, Syn shoved it into her mouth. The time was later than Syn would normally wake. At least no one else had appeared on her doorstep. One stabbing victim was enough for now. 

Turning back to her patient, Syn knelt down with her mouthful of bread. He was shivering again, his arms wrapped around himself again. Syn got up and threw some more wood on the fire.

There wasn’t much else she could do but wait. Grabbing a cloth, she ran it under the cold water and pressed it against her eye. It didn’t feel broken. Syn had probed enough broken bones to know what one felt like. Nothing much could be done for it except to get the swelling down.

Grabbing her discarded cloak from the night before, Syn took her place beside her patient. Tucking her feet under the heavy stack of blankets she enjoyed her breakfast at a slower pace. It had been a long time since Syn had a quiet day. If there was a true emergency, someone would come and get her. Her usual daily activity could wait.

Syn had books scattered throughout her tiny house. It was her only indulgence in life. She picked up the first one that was sitting on a pile nearest to her. It was an old story, one from her teenage years. Syn could remember most of it by heart now. Though it passed the hours.

Every so often the Mandalorian would make a sound. Syn was there every single time. He was still cold, shivering in his armour. He stirred every time Syn touched him. His occasional mumble was incomprehensible under his helmet. Otherwise, the hours ticked along, the only noises were the turning of pages and sound of breathing. Syn would occasionally check on the bandages. It was clean, much to her relief. There were no further signs of the poison spreading. Her own eye swelling started to subside after a few hours. 

Syn was four pages from the end of her book when the sound of shifting blankets disturbed her. The blankets were being kicked off and with a strangled groan.

It was just warm enough to be comfortable in the house. Syn had regularly put wood on the fire to keep it comfortable. 

Checking on her patient again, Syn didn’t have to touch him to feel the heat now radiating from his skin. Not perturbed, Syn pulled the blankets off. As she did he rolled over onto his stomach. 

Syn got to work by pulling his boots off. His trousers were starting to become wet from sweat as Syn worked her way up. It was awkward and Syn heaved to get his pants off. 

“What are you doing?”

Syn nearly dropped his leg in surprise. The raspy voice sounded extremely strained and hoarse.

“You’re burning a fever,” Syn explained as she continued to undo his pants. “You need to cool off and that’s easier without clothes.”

“No.” 

The weak protest was accompanied by an equally weak attempt of movement. As he tried to move his breathing became ragged and strained.

“Yes.” Syn was not at all perturbed. “Believe me, you don’t have anything I haven’t seen before. You’ll thank me when that fever spikes even more.”

“I can do it,” the Mandalorian rasped. 

“Mmm, I’m sure you can,” Syn couldn’t stop the sarcasm creeping into her tone. It was a bad habit she had. “On the bright side, you can’t break your face when you fall over.”

A barely there raspy laugh surprised her. 

“How about I help you out of your top armour?” Syn decided to negotiate. “It’s complicated and I didn’t want to break anything.”

A nod had Syn moving to help him sit up. He was a lot heavier and Syn was only a small woman. The Mandalorian was sweating heavily and so was Syn by the time they managed to get him upright. Doing so disturbed his wound which started to bleed sluggishly.

“Here.” Syn took his hand and placed it on the wound. “Hold that there as firmly as you can. Now, what do I take off first, Mandalorian?”

“Mando is fine,” he said with a wheezing intake of breath. He tapped the chest piece of his armour. “This first.”

It wasn’t unlike armour Syn knew how to work around. It didn’t take long for her to relieve him of the chest piece, his arm pieces of armour and what was left of his shirt. Syn quickly studied the shirt. She’d purposely cut it that it could be repaired. Casting it aside, she turned back to her patient.

Professionalism stopped Syn staring at the muscular body. He was lean and well defined, looking like a dangerous animal. Having the helmet on with his bare chest looked rather odd. But it gave Syn a chance to get a better look at his wound.

Moving his hand away, she quickly unwound the bandage. Every time her hand came into contact with his bare flesh, his flinched away.

“Sorry, cold hands,” Syn said casually. “Not all of us are burning a fever.”

With another wheezing breath, Mando’s head lulled back. Syn peered down at the wound. It still looked red and angry. The stench of the poultice she’d used earlier hit her right in the face, making her food settle in her stomach uncomfortably. But it looked clean. It was a minor miracle at how good it looked so far. 

“Hold this again.” Syn put the dressing back in his hand and placed it on the wound. “I’ll find some new bandages.”

His grip was slack and it took both of them several goes to keep his hand in place. Syn ended up keeping her hand over his and stretching to get the last few strips of his cloak to use as a bandage. Bunching up one of the strips, it became the new dressing. As she quickly bandaged up the bare torso, she felt him slipping.

Syn quickly tied off the last piece of bandage before catching him on the quick trip to the floor. Easing him down onto the floor, Syn managed to get him face down so he didn’t fall on the stab wound.

“I’m sure that isn’t very comfortable, Mando,” Syn said breathlessly. “I have a bed.”

All she got was a grunt in reply. Syn sighed and rearranged a blanket to put under his head. His skin was slick with sweat. Syn could feel the heat radiating from him already.

“I’ll be back,” Syn said to the still form.

Her legs were stiff as she climbed to her feet. Washing her hands, she grabbed a large bowl from beside the kitchen sink. Stepping outside, Syn’s teeth started chattering right away.

Orsoria’s climate was always cold. Even during the warmer months, snow wasn’t an unusual occurrence. Today was no exception. A few inches of fresh powder covered the ground. Syn knelt down and filled her bowl with as much as it could carry. With frozen hands, Syn quickly went back inside.

Finding another cloth, Syn filled it with snow and folded it back over. Taking the makeshift ice pack over, she knelt down and placed it on the back of Mando’s neck.

A groan of utter relief came from beneath the helmet. He blindly groped around, grasping at the freezing cloth. Syn laughed under her breath and she pushed it under his helmet a little more. A few locks of untidy dark hair escaped from underneath it. His hands clutched at the cloth like it was keeping him alive. It didn’t take long for it to start dripping as the snow rapidly melted. 

Grabbing the bowl, Syn spent the next few hours constantly replacing the snow filled cloth. The fever had set in fast. She let the fire die down and bundled up in several layers to keep herself warm. As the sun dipped down, the temperature dropped along with it. Syn was shivering despite having the warmest clothes she could find on. 

Mando hadn’t moved all day except to clutch at every newly made snow cloth. There was the occasional delirious mumbling that Syn couldn’t make out. Otherwise, he was a perfect patient. 

The hours dragged on and Syn felt sleep tug at her. She’d rest and then jolt awake at every sound coming from him. His mumblings had increased during the night but she could never make any sense out of them. The night dragged on and another day dawned without much changing. He was still burning a fever. Syn was freezing and exhausted. The only source of warmth was coming from Mando and Syn couldn’t help but sneak her feet in close to him. His burning fever at least warmed her feet.

There was a distinct feeling of helplessness wash over Syn as the morning birds started to chirp. In another time she would have had every available piece of medical equipment known at her disposal. Things like patients dying from a fever, dehydration or infection wouldn’t have been a concern. Right now, those were the forethought of her worries. The only thing she had was time. And time was the thing that could kill a person.

As the birds began to sing louder, Syn got up from her position on the ground. She had made a cup of tea hours ago and drifted off to sleep before having more than a few mouthfuls. It was cold now and a cup of tea was always her mother’s solution for any problem. Granted, Syn didn’t have the sugary cookies that went with her mother’s cup of tea. But it was still a habit she’d kept over the years.

This time she brewed two cups. As the water boiled on the stove she began to form a plan in her mind. Her bedroom was the coldest place in the house. If she could get Mando in there, it could possibly help break the fever. 

Getting him to move was going to be the problem. Syn stood at the stove tapping her lip trying to think of how to do it. The only thing that came to mind was she was going to have to drag him. Or at least attempt to wake him.

Brewing the tea, Syn let herself savour the first few sips. It was the best part of a new cup of tea. The second one sat there cooling off while Syn gathered the courage to move to the next step. 

Taking her second cup, Syn walked over to her sleeping patient. Kneeling down, she gently shook his shoulder.

“Mando,” Syn said quietly. “I need to move you to my room. You’re going to be more comfortable. I brewed some tea for you.”

“I’ve slept in worse places,” came the mumbled reply. 

Syn was relieved he was speaking. It might make moving him easier.

“I need to move you to my room because it’s freezing in there and it may break your fever,” Syn explained. “I can’t move you on my own.”

In reply to her question, he started to push himself up. He pitched forward before making it any further. Syn quickly bent down and stopped him from hurting himself even more.

“So, that’s a no,” Syn said with a defeated sigh. 

“I can.” 

His words were confident but his half naked body collapsed on the floor said otherwise.

“Sure,” Syn drew out the vowels in the word. “You’re doing great. I’ll enjoy my tea while you get up.”

Syn was used to the macho types. This used to be an everyday occurrence for her. She was content to wait. It gave her some time to finish her cup of tea. 

Mando’s next attempt got him to his hands and knees. From there, Syn helped him to get upright. He was unsteady, leaning most of his weight against her. Syn slung his arm over her shoulder. He was so hot from the fever she began to sweat where he was touching her. The only cool part of his body was the beskar helmet. 

“Are you ready?” Syn asked, bracing herself. She was only a small woman in stature. It was going to be hard to do this without help.

A single nod was all she got in reply. 

Using every ounce of her strength, Syn helped both of them get to their feet. It was very wobbly and unsteady. Syn nearly fell over as the weight next to her got heavier with every passing moment.

“Okay, Mando,” Syn said breathlessly. “Let’s get you into a bed.”

The first step was the hardest. But they both managed it without falling over. With excruciating slowness, the pair inched towards the bedroom. Syn’s strength failed her just in time. Her little bed filled the room. Syn half dropped and half lowered him onto the bed. He laid face down without a sound. ,

“Here you go, Mando,” Syn tried to get her heavy breathing under control. “I’ll get your cup of tea.”

Not waiting for a reply, Syn went back into the other room. After that effort, she felt like she needed something stronger than tea. 

Unfortunately for her, she didn’t have anything stronger than tea. She barely had any food in the house. The lack of sleep was catching up to her quickly. Taking the cup of tea into the room, Syn felt the last bit of the energy drain from her. 

Stoking the fire again, Syn took Mando’s position on the floor 

The night hours went by and morning came again. Syn checked on her still sleeping patient. The cup of tea from last night was empty. It was a small relief and a good step in the right direction. She knew she couldn’t ignore her duties for much longer. The town could do without her for one day. Two days and Syn was sure people would probably start dying.

Leaving the last of the spiced bread along with water on the bedside table, Syn got herself ready for work. Collecting her little bag of supplies, Syn’s first stop was the local bar. That always yielded some patients.

She was right. A steady stream of work came along all day. It was late in the evening by the time she got back home. 

Checking on her patient, he was still breathing. The bread and water were both gone. Putting her hand against his chest, it was still burning hot. At least he’d drunk and eaten something. It was more than she could hope for. The room was freezing. Syn's breath misted in the cold air and she felt chilled to the bones just being in there. But Mando was still sweating. Checking his wound found it still looking clean. He barely moved as she changed the dressing one last time. 

Too tired to do much else, she went back to her previous position in the main room.

The next three days passed along similar lines. Each day Mando’s fever improved a little. He was quiet and Syn only got noises of acknowledgement from him occasionally. He ate and drank everything he was given. On the third day, he was able to sit up by himself. He was quiet while Syn changed the bandage and poked at the wound. It still looked angry but it was clean. Mando's breathing was infinitely better. 

On the fourth day, Syn came home early only to find an empty room.

“Mando?” Syn called out tentatively.

The only reply was her own heavy breathing from his quick walk home. 

Walking back into the main room, Syn found his little pile of belonging’s gone. She’d half repaired his shirt the previous night. On her table was a pile of Imperial credits.

Syn reached out and touched the money. It was a large pile. Much larger than she had in her possession for a very long time. It would buy her supplies to do the next few months. 

Pushing back her disappointment, Syn grabbed the credits off the table. She could put these to very good use.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not entirely sure how long this is going to be. But I'm enjoying writing this. Especially since I have epic writer's block on my other stories.
> 
> Kudos and comments are well loved!

Eight months later, Din found himself struggling to steer the Razor Crest. His left arm was hanging three inches lower than it should be. His last bounty had put up a fight. One that ended with his bounty coming in cold and Din with the dislocated shoulder. He’d tried to put it back in himself with no luck.

Nevarro was hours away, even in hyperspace. Din went through the navigational computer and his hand stopped as he saw a familiar planet. Osoria.

Flashes of his time back there came back to his mind. As did the mild guilt whenever he thought of his time in Osoria.

He could barely remember the fight that had caused him to get stabbed. The pretty doctor with her curly brown hair and green eyes was always the first thing that he thought of. Her gentle hands and no nonsense attitude cut through the vivid fever dreams that plagued his days there. Cool hands soothed his body when it burnt. And a warm body had kept him warm when he thought he’d never be warm again. 

Then the tracking fob for the Clawdite bounty hunter had gone off when she’d been gone. The Clawdite had gone rogue from the Guild and it had been weeks of tracking before Din got close to him. The Clawdite had kicked away his blaster and drove the knife into his chest. Barely able to see straight, Din left the tiny house and had somehow managed to take down his bounty without getting stabbed this time. His travels had taken him back to Nevarro and to the other side of the Outer Rim for the next few months. 

Din didn’t even know her name. But he owed her his life. The pile of credits he as able to leave on the table barely felt adequate for the care she had given him. Osoria was a mere twenty minutes by hyperdrive away. 

Putting the coordinations into the flight computer, Din hoped the pretty doctor was in an amicable mood. 

His shoulder was growing more painful with every passing second. The flight felt like it was hours instead of less than one. Landing was a new form of torture. It was night in Osoria. The tiny landing dock was unattended and Din was able to walk off freely. The snow was falling freely making him shiver in his armour. 

The town was all shut in for the night. The only noise was from what sounded like the local tavern. Going by his fuzzy memories, Din found himself in the outer reaches of town. Reaching a door that looked somewhat familiar, At least he hoped it was familiar. Using one good arm, he reached up and knocked on the door.

It opened after a few moments. to Din’s relief, it was the doctor. Her hair was pulled back in a messy bun with tendrils escaping from it. Black smudges under her eyes made the emerald green stand out even more. She looked tired and drawn.

“Mando?” she looked surprised. 

“Sorry for the late hour.” Din felt another stab of guilt seeing how tired she looked. “You were close by.”

He unwrapped his cloak and gingerly peeled it back, showing off the obviously dislocated joint.

“Ouch,” her face was instantly sympathetic as she stepped aside. “Come in.”

The house was smaller than Din remembered. The front room was little more than a mattress on the ground, table and chairs in what looked to be a kitchen. 

“Sit.”

Din did as he was told, taking one of the free chairs. 

“At least you’re upright this time,” she said lightly, turning away to open a cupboard. “And not bleeding. When did you do it? If you say a week, I’m going to hit you with my frying pan.”

Din felt himself smile, though she wouldn’t be able to tell. 

“Less than 12 hours,” Din said with a wince as he reached up and undid his cloak. With one arm and the worsening pain in the other, it was a hard task to get it off. 

Behind him, steady hands enclosed his own. They were so much smaller than his but somehow felt strong. 

“I’ve got this if you want to start on the armor,” she said in a tone leaving no room for argument. “Try not to move too much.”

Din did as he was told. There was a strange feeling of dejavu that he couldn’t shake. The silence between them was comfortable as she went to help him with the rest of the armour and clothing over his upper body.

Once he was free from all clothing and armor, she gently took his arm. Din hissed in pain as she moved it upward.

“Well, it’s dislocated,” she said with a small hum. Her cool hands ran down his muscled bicep leaving goosebumps in her wake.

It took every ounce of self discipline for Din not to jump at the contact of her hands on his bare skin. It had been far too long since anyone had touched him with such casual ease. Her hands probed around the dislocated joint with gentle but practiced movements.

“It doesn’t feel like you’ve damaged much of the muscle structure,” she continued. “Okay on the count of five. One, two…”

She didn’t get to five. In one swift and deliberate movement, the joint shifted but didn’t go back into place.

Din bit back a pained scream of pain. Biting his lip hard enough, he felt the metallic taste of blood in his mouth.

“Sorry,” she said with a genuine apology in her tone. “Your muscles are locked up entirely. Do you mind if I try something else before I resort to something more drastic?”

Her hands were still on his bare skin, her thumb running over the tight knot of muscle just below his shoulder. It was entirely innocent, a movement meant to soothe. Instead, the contact of bare skin felt something entirely different. If he wasn’t in so much pain, Din thought he may have ended up with an entirely different reaction. 

“By all means,” Din managed to force out, trying to sound as normal as possible. 

“I can give you some painkillers if you’d like?” she moved away, the contact completely gone as soon as it came. “There’s no need to be a hero if you don’t have to.”

“I’m fine,” Din said through gritted teeth. 

Her hands were suddenly back on his shoulder. He jumped at the sudden contact. There was some kind of lotion mixture on his shoulder.

“Sorry, cold hands,” she said calmly. “Now this will start to warm up as I massage it in. Hopefully, it’ll loosen up your muscles and I can get it back in.”

Without waiting for an answer, those same strong hands started to work into the knotted muscles.

Din felt himself tense up as she started to massage the lotion in. It wasn’t a relaxing or gentle massage. It was one with purpose. She was right, it started to warm up after a few moments, almost uncomfortably.

“Did you get your bounty?”

The question was unexpected. Din felt himself start at the attempt to make conversation.

“When you left, I asked around and it turns out one particular piece of scum that had been troubling the neighborhood for a while had disappeared,” she kept speaking as she worked. “It turns out someone had seen you in town with a tracking fob. So I assume you’re a bounty hunter.”

The lotion was making his muscles feel more relaxed. Din felt himself unwind under the firm ministrations. 

“I am.” He forced himself not to lean back into her touch. “And I did.”

The room fell silent again as she continued to work on his shoulder. Every so often she’d raise his arm, test some movement and then go back to what she was doing. The warmth of the room, combined with the easing of tension across his shoulder was enough to make Din relax. It was an odd feeling. One he didn’t get to experience much, if at all. 

“I don’t know your name,” Din said suddenly. He wasn’t sure where it had come from. An errant thought that had simply fallen out of his mouth.

“It’s Synamethina, though you can call me Syn,” she said. “Only my mother would call me Synamethina when I was big trouble.”

Would. Spoken in past tense. Din decided not to press. But he had her name now. It felt like a small price for the care she was giving him. 

“Thank you Syn,” Din said, feeling a small smile tug on his lips.

“Don’t thank me just yet,” Syn said lightly.

Before he could ask what she meant, she moved his arm again and with a sharp jerk, Din felt the joint slide back into place. This time, a pained grunt managed to make its way past his lips. 

‘This is the way,” Syn said with an amused tone, patting his shoulder. 

Oh, he liked this woman’s wit. He had a scarce memory of telling her that in his last visit. 

With a gentle roll of his shoulder to test the motion, he found it to be back to functional. It still ached and would for days.

“I can give you some of the lotion to rub into your shoulder for the next few days,” Syn said, turning away from him.

Now her hands were gone, Din felt the lack of her touch acutely. It was a strange feeling. After not being touched by anyone for so long, the simple act of having another person’s hand on him was comforting. The firm but gentle touch of a healer. Someone whose debt he was going to be in for the foreseeable future. 

“Or some painkillers,” Syn said as she came back into his line of sight. She brushed her hair out of her eyes. “Or you can suffer in silence which is the path I’m sure you’ll take.”

That damned wit of her’s made Din smile again. If she hadn’t voiced it, it was exactly what he would have done. 

“I have plenty of supplies on my ship,” Din said, feeling himself hesitate. “I will take the lotion if you don’t mind.”

“I wouldn’t have offered it if I minded,” Syn said as she handed over the small metal tin. “Any other surprises I should know about before I go back to bed?”

“None,” Din said, bending down to pick up his shirt. “Sorry for waking you.”

“You have to be asleep to be woken up,” Syn said lightly. 

She turned away before Din could look at her. Though her tone was light, there was a weariness in her tone that couldn’t be masked. Not one that was caused by lack of sleep. One that came from a place of hurt deep in your soul.

“I am going back to bed though. You’re welcome to a space on the floor,” Syn continued. “I will even give you a blanket. You will have to fight me to the death to hand over my pillow.”

A small amused laugh escaped before Din could stop it. She obviously used sarcasm and humor to cover any uncomfortable situation. It was a welcome change from people too afraid to speak to him. 

His laugh drew a genuine smile on Syn’s lips. It made her entire face light up with joy.

“Good night,” Syn said, the smile still on her face. “Turn the lamp off when you’re ready for sleep. It won’t disturb me. Or you can leave if you want. I don’t mind.” 

Picking up a spare blanket off the bed, she tossed it in his direction. With his good arm, Din managed to catch it. 

She laid down on the mattress on the floor, pulling the blankets up around her. Rolling over on her side, Syn wriggle underneath the nest of blankets. 

Din looked at the blanket in his hand. It was threadbare and well worn. Looking around the room, it wasn’t the only thing that was well worn. Everything looked as if it had seen better days. The chair he was sitting on felt crooked. The tiny fire was enough to keep the chill out of the room, but not much else.

Looking over to his healer companion, her breathing had evened out. She was a mystery. She obviously had a lot of training. It took considerable skill the save him from the first injury. She handed his shoulder like it was a common complaint. 

The hour was late, or early, depending on how you looked at the timing of the day. Din took the blanket and his cloak and made himself comfortable. He’d slept in many worse positions than this. A slightly crooked chair in a just warm enough room was comfortable lodgings compared to some places. 

Closing his eyes, Din felt himself drift off to sleep. 

It didn’t seem like long before a noise woke him up. A weak stream of sunlight was coming through the window. 

Syn was up and moving about in the small kitchen. A kettle was boiling on the stove and the smell of something fresh and spicy filled the house. 

With two cups in her hand, Syn turned around and put on the table.

“Good morning,” she said, a smile on her tired face. She slid one of the mugs across the table towards him. “I have to run. If you’re leaving, lock the door behind you.”

“How did you know I was awake,” Din asked as he took the offered mug. 

“Breathing changes,” Syn said simply. “Everyone does it. It may be subtle but it’s always there.”

She drained her own mug and placed it on the table. She had a leather satchel over her shoulder and resting on her hip. 

“Don’t let it be eight months before I see you again, Mando.” Syn gave him another smile before turning around and leaving. 

Din shamelessly followed her with his eyes until she was out of sight. It was nice to have fresh and lucid memory of her. The mystery of the pretty doctor was going to have to wait for another day. He couldn’t linger. Yet again, Din found himself leaving nothing but his untold gratitude and as many credits as he had in his pocket.


	4. Chapter 4

Three months later, Syn was only mildly surprised to find a certain Mandalorian sitting on her doorstep as she came home early from another busy day.

“Broken or bleeding?” Syn asked in amusement as she came closer. Though by a quick scan of his body, she could see it was the latter.

With an amused huff, he moved the makeshift bandage off his leg. Syn could clearly see a large gash on the inside of his thigh. It had missed the armor by a hair’s width, making it an unlucky blow.

“You need to learn to dodge better, Mando,” Syn said, chiding him but still amused. “Come in.”

She offered him her hand. The gloved one fit into hers and using all of her strength, she helped pull him to his feet. Unlocking the door, Din hobbled in and collapsed into the first waiting chair.

“Armour and pants off,” Syn commanded as she relieved herself of her leather satchel. These days it was heavy enough to be a burden. “You know the drill by now.”

Syn turned to see him hesitate. She remembered back to their first meeting and even in his fevered state, he hadn’t been keen on taking his pants off.

“I’ll get you a blanket since you’re shy,” Syn teased him lightly. “Believe me, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

A heavy sigh was her only answer. Though he started to do as he was asked. As she promised, Syn went to the bedroom and got him a blanket. She tossed it at him before retreating back into her room. 

“Call me when you’re covered,” Syn said as she pulled the door closed. 

On her own, Syn leant against the wall. Even though it had been an early day, her feet and back both ached. She’d been bent over a patient for the best part of three hours, trying to piece a foot back together after an unfortunate accident with an animal trap. While it was back in one piece, Syn had her doubts she was going to be able to save it. 

“Ready.”

The voice from the other room roused her from her thoughts. Pushing her weary body off the wall, she went out into the main room. 

The gash was worse than Syn had originally anticipated. Now it was in full view, she could see it was at least a week old and someone had tried to stitch it back together. Very unsuccessfully. The edges were red and shiny with infection. 

“Oh, Mando,” Syn said with a sigh. “Did you try and fix this yourself?”

There was a pause. A very long one. Syn bit her lip to fight back her amusement.

“Yes.”

The answer was strained and tight. Not to mention full of guilt.

“Aren’t you lucky I get a lot of practice stitching things back together,” Syn said with a small laugh. “When did you do this?”

She moved to the sink to wash her hands. There was another long pause before she got an answer.

“A week ago,” Din said, his voice still full of guilt. 

“Well, let’s have a look.” Syn decided to not tease him any further. “How much does it hurt?”

A shrug of the shoulders was all she got. Bending down, Syn peer at the impressive gash on the inside of his thigh. It ran from a few inches above the knee all the way into the groin. The few haphazard stitches were holding the lower edges of it together. It was a ragged mess. Pulling her medical kit within reach, she got comfortable between his legs. This would take a while to clean up.

“Okay,” Syn said as she put her hands on his leg, “I’m going to…”

She didn’t get to finish the sentence. He jumped a mile and nearly fell off the seat as she touched him. 

Syn moved back and placed her hands up in a placating gesture. She had forgotten how twitchy he was with touch. Considering how closer her hands were to other parts of his anatomy, she wasn’t completely surprised by the reaction.

“Sorry,” she apologized quickly. “I know it’s awkward but I promise I’m not doing anything but cleaning up the mess you made of your leg.”

A nod was all she got in return. Syn took it as permission to move back to her previous position. He was already tense and flinching away from her touch before she got close.

“Tell me a story,” Syn switched to a tactic she often used with uncooperative patients. 

“I’m not feeling very talkative,” came the terse reply.

“Then ask a question and I’ll do all the talking,” Syn countered. “I’m good at that.”

An amused huff came from under the helmet. Syn peeked up at him with a small smile. Nothing could be seen under the beskar helmet. But she felt as if he was looking directly at her. 

“Where did you train as a doctor?” he asked.

“Coruscant,” Syn said as she put her hands on his leg again. He was still tense under her touch but stayed still this time. “I always wanted to be a doctor. Even when I was a child. My dad was a doctor as well and he encouraged it. A lot.”

Syn began to quickly undo the poorly done stitches. They came apart easily under her scalpel. Tugging them out also came with a good portion of puss. 

“I was the oldest. My sister was the adventurous one. I spent my childhood with my nose in a book,” Syn continued with a fond smile. 

“A habit that looks as if it still continues,” Din said tightly, nodding his head towards the stack of books on her table.

Syn looked up at him with a quick smile before turning back to her work. Now the stitches were out she could see what she was dealing with. It was a nasty wound. If she had treated it while it was fresh, it would have healed easily. Now she was going to have to clean up the edges of the dead and infected flesh.

“You purse your lips when something is wrong.”

The simple statement made Syn look up again. She could see her reflection in his helmet.

“I was just thinking that if you’d done the smart thing and seen me when this was fresh, then this wouldn’t hurt nearly as much as it’s going to,” Syn said with an apologetic smile. “I’m going to have to clean the edges up and then see if I can stitch some of it together. Unfortunately, I used the last of my numbing aesthetic trying to put someone’s foot back together.”

“Do what you need to.”

“I can give you strong liquor instead?” Syn offered and she stood up. Her joints cracked and creaked in protest. 

“I’m fine,” came the very terse reply. “Just do what you need to.”

“Sure.” 

Instead of bending down again, Syn went to one of her cupboards. It contained her small supply of liquor. She wasn’t a big drinker herself but kept a few bottles for those occasional to celebrate. Or those she wanted to forget. Taking out her favorite bottle of fire whiskey, she put it on the table and slid it within reach.

“Just in case you change your mind,” Syn said lightly. 

Moving back to her previous position, Syn felt him follow her every movement. This time he only flinched when her hands came to rest on his leg. 

Humming a nonsense tune, Syn got to work in cleaning up the wound. It wasn’t until she had to start cutting away the pieces of infected flesh that he reacted again. He grunted in pain and tried to move away.

Syn was ready for it. She pushed his leg up against the leg of the table so he was effectively trapped between her and the leg. He moved and she looked up in time to see him reaching for the offered bottle.

“Told you so,” Syn said lightly, turning back to her work.

The temptation to try and peek at what was underneath the helmet was great. Syn kept her eyes firmly on the job in front of her as he drunk deeply from the bottle. Giving him a few moments, Syn cleaned up the oozing and bleeding mess in front of her. She had barely started cleaning it up. Giving the liquor some time to kick in would help them both. 

“Tell me about your sister. What was her name?”

The request made Syn look up in surprise. She hadn’t expected the request. His helmet was tipped up just enough that he could drink. Syn couldn’t see anything of his face. The only thing she could see was he was sporting some scruff of an unshaved neck.

“Ela.” Syn had to swallow back the lump in her throat. The one that always appeared when her sister came up. She turned her attention back to the wound. “She was three years younger than me. A complete brat who always got us into trouble. She was such a pain in my ass.”

A small chuckle made Syn look back up. It was usually hard to tell what he was looking at. Right now it was as if he was looking straight at her. 

“Anyway,” Syn went back to what she was doing. “She went on to be a pilot. A very good one at that. I was glad for it because I got sick of patching her up because she was always getting into fights. At least being a pilot she mostly kept out of trouble.”

“You keep referring to your family in past tense.”

“That’s because they are in the past.” Syn firmly fixed her eyes and mind on her task in front of her. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about,” Syn said, ignoring her stinging eyes. “You asked. I offered the information. You didn’t know the outcome of the conversation.”

A gloved hand came down to rest on Syn’s shoulder. It was her turn to start at the sudden contact. While she touched people every day in her line of work, it was rare for anyone to initiate some form of contact with her. She reached up and put her hand over his. 

It was a small thrill, even through the glove. Syn’s mind drifted back to the last time he had been there. It had taken every bit of her concentration to focus on her job at hand while massaging his dislocated shoulder. The well defined muscle under her hands had been a huge distraction. She had to recite the anatomical terms for those muscles she lingered on to keep her mind on the task. The nights that followed his last visit were full of dreams with those strong arms holding her in various positions. Up against the wall and bent over the bed were two particular favorites of hers.

“You might want to keep drinking,” Syn said as she took her hand away. She cleared her throat and pushed the errant thought back where it came from. “I’ve got a lot to go.”

The bottle appeared in her line of vision. Syn found herself looking back up again.

“I don’t drink alone,” Din said simply as he shook the bottle. The contents of the bottle splashed around inside. “One drink?”

“How can I refuse such a charming offer?” Syn said with a brief chuckle. She was acutely aware of his other hand still on her shoulder. Taking the bottle, she took a long sip.

The fire whiskey was adeptly named. It burnt all the way down. On an empty stomach, it made Syn feel far too warm with just one small drink. She handed the bottle back and went back to work. His hand left her shoulder and Syn tried not to think of how much she missed the contact already.

This time he stayed mostly still, only flinching when Syn had to cut deeper. By the time it was cleared up, the infected outer edges were mostly gone. The cut was muscle deep but didn’t look have caused any major damage. 

“Yet again, you’ve managed to escape death,” Syn said, peering at the wound from all angles. “Once I stitch it, you’re going to have to stay off it for at least five days to give it a chance to heal.”

Syn turned back to her supplies, gathering her stitching equipment.

“You’re welcome to stay here if you want,” Syn said casually, expecting the offer to get turned down right away. 

“Do I get a pillow this time?”

Syn was not expecting the casual tease. It made her burst out laughing. She’d been crouching down the entire time and ended up falling backward onto her ass. 

“No, you still have to fight me to the death for my pillow,” Syn said around her laughter. “Though it wouldn’t be a fair fight. I could take you down easily.”

“Oh yeah?” Din asked, his tone playful and a little slurred. “And how would you do that?”

Syn poked the corner of his leg wound lightly. The effect was instant. He hissed in pain and jumped away from the light contact. 

“See?” Syn said, still laughing. “I have you completely overwhelmed.”

Din laughed. It made Syn smile even more. She really wished his laughter didn’t make her smile but here she was. Smiling like a silly adolescent with a crush. She blamed the alcohol for the lightening of his mood. He sounded surly earlier. Though she wouldn’t blame him for being surly after dealing with a painful wound for the last week.

Nothing more was said as Syn started to stitch the wound up. This made him drink more, hissing in pain at every puncture of the needle and tug of the suture material. His free hand was gripping the table hard. Syn could hear the creak of the leather gloves with every movement. 

“I’m sorry,” Syn apologized as she had to pull harder than she wanted to get one of the larger gaps to come together. 

“It’s fine,” Din said through gritted teeth. “You’re right, I should have come to you sooner.”

Syn glanced up with a sympathetic smile. Not wanting to draw it out any further she continued to stitch as quickly as she could. As she got towards the end of the wound, she found him tensing for another reason entirely. Syn’s hand was a mere inch from his crotch and she had no choice but to move closer as she needed to finish the stitches.

“I’m nearly done,” Syn said reassuringly. “I know it’s very uncomfortable.”

Teasing to lighten the mood didn’t feel right at this time. Instead, Syn finished the job, tying off the last one suture with practiced ease. 

“Now that’s how it’s meant to be done,” Syn said lightly as she inspected the job. It was still red and angry but at least it was held together now. “I’ll get some bandages.”

Climbing to her feet, Syn suddenly found her motion stopped. She looked down to find Din’s gloved hand enclosed around her wrist. 

“Thank you.”

“You’re most welcome.” Syn felt herself smile again. “Let me wash my hands, finishing patching that up and I’ll get some dinner on.”

A single nod was all she got. Moving around the house she did exactly as she said. In less than five minutes, his leg was bandaged.

“I’ll give you a few minutes to get dressed. Do not tear those stitches or I’ll be mad.”

Another chuckle made Syn smile again. She couldn’t help herself. Though she managed to hide it by retreating back to her bedroom. It was the middle of Spring right now. While still cold, at least her freezing bedroom was nearly tolerable. The weather was considered balmy but the locals. Even after nearly four years, Syn still wasn’t used to the cold. Pulling on a warmer top, Syn let herself have a few minutes to herself.

“Are you decent, Mando?”

“I am.”

Syn walked back out into the main room. The night was starting to fall fast, casting shadows around the small room. Din had put his pants back on but shed the outer layer of his armor. He was sitting on the ground, close to the fire, his leg stretched out in front of him. He had the bottle of fire whiskey next to him. 

The fire was roaring, warming up the entire room. It hadn’t been started when Syn left.

“I feel like you cheated getting that started,” Syn said, pointing to the fire.

“I have a flamethrower on my gauntlet,” Din said with a small chuckle. “It may be cheating.”

“It’s made the room warm, I have no complaints. Dinner?”

“Is already on.”

Syn looked over to the stove. Sure enough, the stew she had been given the night before was in a pot and warming up. 

“Thank you,” Syn put all of her gratitude into those two words. It had been a long day and on days like this, she would have gone without dinner and straight to bed.

“It’s the least I could do,” Din said, then hesitated. “I owe you my life. A pile of credits on the table seem insufficient for what you’ve done for me.”

“A pile of credits on the table is a lot more than I could ask for,” Syn brushed his praise off. “Those credits help a lot of people. It means I can buy more supplies, which means I can save a lot more lives.”

Syn could feel his gaze on her again. This line always led to more questions. One she wasn’t in feeling up to answering. She had already told him so much this day. Talking about her family always brought up an ache that never seemed to leave her. 

“I’ve had a long day, so I’ll take my dinner to bed.” Syn purposely changed the topic. “You’re welcome to the rest of the bottle and whatever else you need. I’ll get you a blanket.”

Syn felt a stab of guilt she couldn’t offer him anything more than a spot on the floor. She doubted he’d be there in the morning though. Walking back into the bedroom, Syn grabbed the heavier blanket off the bottom of her bed. Smiling to herself, she also took the second pillow off the bed. Medical supplies weren’t the only thing she brought with his credits last time. 

“Here.” Syn failed at keeping a straight face as she handed over the pillow and blanket back in the main room. When he didn’t reach out for the pillow, Syn laughed. “I brought a spare. You never know when someone might drop it.”

Din chuckled as he took the offered items. The stew was bubbling on the stove already. The roaring fire was nothing like Syn could get going by herself. Getting a bowl, she gave herself a generous helping and set the rest aside. 

“Goodnight,” Syn said as she retreated back to her room. 

It felt like the start of a habit. He would show up broken or bloody. Syn would patch him up and go to bed. By the next day he’d be gone with a pile of credits left on the table. Then she would spend the next month replaying their encounter over and over in her head. The dreams would follow in those weeks. Dreams that would wake her up wanting things she should not be thinking of from a patient. 

Shoveling down her dinner, Syn found herself wide awake. Not wanting to disturb him, she found a book instead and read until she couldn’t keep her eyes open. 

The next morning, Syn opened the bedroom door expecting to find an empty house. Instead, she was greeted by a roaring fire and a cup of tea already on the table. Din was sitting at the table with his leg propped up on the opposite chair.

It was extremely domestic. A sight that made Syn smile.

“Good morning,” Din said, shifting in his chair. 

“It is indeed.” Syn couldn’t wipe the smile off her face. “It’s been a long time since I woke up to a cup of tea. Thank you.”

An incline of his head was the only answer she got. He had an empty cup in front of him. The pot and a bowl from last night were sitting on the bench, both clean as well.

Syn managed to refrain from making a comment about him being house trained as she sat down. The cup of tea was perfect, done exactly how she liked it. There was something blissful about waking up to a fresh cup of tea. 

“I have to do some rounds of patients this morning,” Syn said after her first sip of tea. “I could be a few hours or I could be gone all day. Please stay off that leg, even if you decide to leave.”

A nod answered her. It was silent while she finished her cup of tea.

“If the offer still stands, I’d like to stay for a few days,” he asked hesitantly. “I have nowhere else to be and I can barely walk.”

“Of course it does,” Syn said instantly. A part of her was thrilled to have him stay for a little longer. “Make yourself at home. I’m sorry I can’t offer anything more comfortable.”

There was no reply. Syn could feel him looking at her again from under the helmet.

“There’s an inn,” Syn started when she got no reply. 

“No, this is more than I need,” he quickly reassured her. “Thank you.”

“Right. I better get to work,” Syn said, feeling awkward. “I’ll see you sometime later.”

She gathered her bag and she left before she could feel any more awkward. 

The day went by quickly. The foot Syn had tried to put back together was an infected mess. The person it belonged to was already running a fever. His wife was standing in the corner of the room, looking a deadly shade of green. Most smells didn’t bother Syn. But when she pulled back the bandage on the foot, even she recoiled at the smell. 

“It’s going to have to come off, isn’t it?” Nira, the wife asked tearfully.

“Not if I can help it,” Syn said stubbornly.

As Syn was rewrapping the foot. One of the mothers she knew came running in. Their infant had developed a rash and a high fever. Then there were five more children come down with the exact same thing within hours of each other. An outbreak of scarlet fever was about to run rampant. On top of that, she had the usual complaints and injuries that came with being the only doctor in town.

It was well after nightfall when Syn stumbled through her front door. Unlike other nights, her house was warm and a delicious smell wafted through the air. It was a stark reminder she hadn’t eaten all day. Syn had been so busy she’d nearly forgotten about her house guest. He was sitting on the floor, close to the fire repairing the chest piece of his armor.

“Please tell me you’ve had a childhood illness with a splotchy red rash and high fever. It's called different things on different worlds,” Syn said tiredly as she collapsed into the chair. Putting her head into her arms, she could have easily fallen asleep at the table then and there. “Because I’ve been dealing with them all day and no matter how many times I wash my hands, I’m sure I’ve brought it home.”

“I have.”

Syn grunted in response and let her eyes close. Of all the places in the galaxy, why did she have to end up here? Sometimes she relished her job. Days like today, not so much. She’d give anything to go back to treating blaster wound after blaster wound. Crying children were so much harder to deal with.

Din moved around in the small house, but Syn paid him no heed. It wasn’t until something was set down next to her and a gentle shake on her arm that she looked up with blurry eyes.

A plate of meat and some of the local vegetables were set down next to her. It was a feast compared to what she usually ate. 

“You need to eat,” he said gently as he hobbled over to the spare chair. “You aren’t any good to these people if you collapse.”

Syn had so many questions. She knew her cupboards were bare. Most of the time she ate in snatches from the bakery, or even a quick sit down meal at the tavern. The local tavern keeper's wife often sent her home with enough food to reheat for a few days. Even then it was picked at. 

Sitting up in her chair, Syn braced herself remembering the chair leg was wobbly. Except for this time it didn’t move. It felt solid underneath her.

“I got bored,” came the explanation from across the table before Syn could ask. “Eat.”

Syn promised herself she’d get the full story out of him after she ate. Maybe after she slept. The food was delicious. A full belly and a warm house made the temptation of sleep far too great to resist. Unlike the night before, Syn went straight to bed without a change of clothes and slept like the dead.

The pattern continued for the next week and a half. Half the children in the town got sick. Her patient with the pieced together foot fought off the infection. There were two fights in the tavern which required Syn to drag herself out of bed well before dawn to attend to. Most nights Syn would stumble home at all hours of the evening, sometimes even the early morning. No matter the time, Din was there waiting for her. She’d check his wound after dinner and fall into bed.

Even in her exhaustion, Syn noticed a few small things around her house. The bookshelf that had broken a year ago was now fixed. Her books were all neatly stacked in it. All of a sudden her water heater worked properly. She no longer had to wait ten minutes for anything resembling hot water to come out of the taps. There was a box that appeared in the house and a good stack of wood was there every single night. A roaring fire and good meals made the impossible schedule bearable.

She felt bad for barely able to manage a thank you before collapsing into bed. As the end of the second week drew near, Syn found herself home earlier than she had been in days. Last night she had taken the stitches out of his leg and the mood had been quiet. Syn had been too tired to string a conversation together. Not that he was the most talkative person in the world. Still, there had been snatches of brief conversations over the weeks he had been there.

Din was standing in the doorway as she came home. She had noticed he’d been walking better with every passing day. Today was the first day he was wearing all of his armor. True to his creed, she’d never seen him without the helmet. But he rarely wore the armor in the house.

“You have to go?” Syn asked before he could say anything.

“I do.”

Syn felt a lump form in her throat. She knew this wouldn’t last. He would leave eventually. It had been nice coming home to a hot meal and another heartbeat in the house while it lasted. 

“At least you waited until you were mostly healed,” Syn said lightly, trying to cover up how upset she actually felt. “And I get to say goodbye this time.”

He laughed a little. A sound Syn liked to hear. He didn’t do it often and when it was her that made him laugh, Syn always enjoyed it a little more than usual. 

“I can’t promise when I’ll be back. Or even if I’ll be back.”

The laughter was replaced as quickly as it came. This time a more somber tone came into his voice. 

“I know,” Syn said with a shrug. “You know where to find me when you’re broken or bleeding next time.”

The silence stretched between them for long enough that Syn felt uncomfortable. Goodbyes were hard enough. His leaving without saying goodbye was much easier. 

Reaching out, he tucked an errant curl behind her ear. The casual touches were a daily thing now. Syn enjoyed every brush of the hand, a gentle touch on her shoulder to wake her up. He hadn’t been wearing gloves most of the time either. His hands were rough, like a typical soldier's hands. However this time he was wearing his gloves. Even with them on, Syn still felt her heart leap. 

His hand lingered for a few moments before coming forward to casually brush her cheek. Syn wanted to press herself against it and enjoy the feel of the leather against her skin. She never knew such a soft and brief touch could feel so raw and intimate. 

“Stay safe,” she forced her voice to stay calm. 

“You too.”

With a turn of the heel, he was gone. Leaving Syn with a pounding heart and dry mouth.

When he was out of sight, Syn groaned and let her head bang against the doorframe. Now she was going to be horny with no relief in sight for months after that little encounter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may have been procrastiwriting a lot on my day off.


	5. Chapter 5

Despite his last words to Syn, he became a regular fixture in her life over the next few months. HIs next visit was barely three weeks after he left. This time instead of injuries, he came with a large crate of medical supplies.

“Where did this come from?” Syn felt like a child opening presents as she went through it all. Most of it was basic supplies like bandages but it also had a good supply of medications she so desperately needed. It also had a handheld scanner. Something Syn desperately missed. She clutched it to her chest like it was giving her life. Her throat closed up and she fought back tears. It was more than generous.

“My last bounty,” came the simple reply. “I knew you could put it to good use instead of the guild. I can’t stay.”

Syn’s only reply was to leap up and hug him. He stiffened under her for only a moment, before his arms came around to hug her back. 

“Thank you.”

Syn was sure it was her imagination that he lingered for a few moments longer than necessary. None the less, she enjoyed the brief contact. After that, he never seemed to stiffen as Syn hugged him goodbye. 

The visits were sporadic. Sometime’s Syn would see him twice a week. Other times she wouldn’t see him for weeks at an end. Some visits brought injuries. Nothing life threatening or even anywhere near as bad as his previous injuries. Syn got a good laugh when he hobbled in with a broken toe that she had to set. Other times he’d bring medical supplies or books. Those were Syn’s favourite visits.

Conversation was rare but cherished when they did happen. Neither of them spoke much of the past. Din would sometimes tell her of his travels when he was in a conversational mood. Syn would keep him informed of her latest list of injuries she was treating and what was doing on in town. It was a comfortable friendship built on mutual trust and respect Sometimes he stayed for a day or two Other times he’d leave nearly right away after being patched up or dropping off his latest gift. He always claimed it was payment for her always mending him. 

The last two visits, Syn had walked back to his ship with him. Being seen with him in full daylight had one good effect for Syn. The more unsavoury characters in town left her alone. Not that anyone truly bothered her. Her face and job were well known enough that people wouldn’t give her much more than looks that made her uncomfortable and the occasional snarky remark. But having a Mandalorian walk with her made their leering looks disappear quickly. 

It wasn’t a secret in town that a Mandalorian often dropped by, staying the night. A few of the women tried to probe information out of Syn, but she laughed it off. Even though her imagination had other ideas sometimes, especially at night, she was happy for the unlikely friendship they had struck up.

Life was feeling better than it had in her entire time living on Osoria. With medical supplies easier to get now, Syn was able to do her job more efficiently. She had medication to treat most things. Antibiotics for those who really needed it. She finally felt like she was able to do her job and the people around her thrived. 

Syn had a late night delivering yet another baby. It seemed to be the time for them as this was the fourth mother that was due that month. Both mother and baby were healthy and it had been straight forward. It was still late and Syn was dead on her feet.

There was no moon out tonight. The cold snap that had ravaged the town held on tight, refusing to let go. Syn was bundled up in so many layers she could barely move. Inches of snow lay on the ground, making it hard to slog through. Syn’s eyelashes felt frozen and it was so cold it hurt to breathe. She kept her head down, cursing at the snow with every step. Her boots were soaked through, as well as her pants. All she wanted to do was get home and take a good long soak in a steaming hot bath. 

“What do we have here?”

Syn had been so focused on moving one foot in front of the other, she hadn’t noticed the three figures appear in front of her. 

“I’m Syn,” she looked up, pulling her face covering down. “I’m the local doctor. What can I do for you?”

Despite her firm tone, Syn felt her stomach clench in fear. This wasn’t the first time she’d ever been approached on the way home. Most people would step aside quickly or it would turn out they actually needed her. It always terrified her at first. 

They were three men. All twice her size. Syn had briefly seen them in the tavern as she passed by earlier to grab some dinner. They weren’t locals. 

“Syn,” the one who spoke first took a step forward. “A pretty name for a pretty girl.”

Syn instantly took a step back. As she did, she bumped into something hard. Whirling around, she found herself up close to one of the other men. He was the tallest of the three. In the darkness she could barely see his face.

There was a gap next to him. Taking her chance, Syn made a run for the gap. She was too slow. A hand snaked out and grabbed her arm, stopping her in her tracks.

Fear threatened to overwhelm her. Syn felt like her muscles had all frozen solid. Her mind was working at a million miles an hour to try and counteract it. Syn did the only thing she could think of. She landed a solid kick to the groin of the man holding her.

He let her go with a surprised yelp of pain. Her victory was short lived as one of the other men grabbed her from behind. Syn opened her mouth to scream at the top of her lungs, only to have a hand clamp over her mouth.

“Scream and you’re dead.”

The pungent breath of the man behind her made Syn gag. His hand was covering her nose and mouth, making it hard to breathe. She struggled with all of her strength, trying to get free. The hand pressed down harder until Syn felt lightheaded. Childhood memories forward and Syn went for a reaction she knew would release the hand from her mouth. She bit down hard enough to taste the metallic sting of blood in her mouth.

The man released her with a yell, shoving her to the ground. His companions were both laughing as Syn fell to her hands and knees, desperately sucking in the much needed oxygen. 

“She’s feisty,” one of them laughed. 

Before she could react, her scalp burnt as she was dragged upwards. Dizzy and terrified, Syn found herself shoved face first into the wall. Her nose smashed into the wall and Syn nearly fainted from the pain. She’d put enough broken noses back into place to know the sound of one breaking. 

Hands went around her neck, putting pressure on her windpipe. Syn frantically sucked in a breath before it was cut off abruptly. Clawing at the wall, Syn struggled with all of her might against the person cutting off her oxygen supply. The hands were crushing and relentless. Black spots danced before her eyes and Syn felt her consciousness start to slip away.

The hands let up just before she completely passed out. Syn fell to the ground, coughing and gasping for air. Around her, the tormentors laughed again. 

“Come on it’s too cold out here,” one of them said through the laughter. “Get her inside and we can finish it off.”

Syn’s body was limp and she had no fight as the tall one grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her across the snow. It wasn’t until her body touched the biting concrete of a doorstep did Syn feel a shred of her wits gather. Not bothering with the earlier threat, she opened her mouth and screamed as loudly as she could.

It was cut off far too quickly by a solid blow across her face. If Syn’s nose wasn’t broken before, she knew it definitely was now. Blood filled her mouth and it felt like her brain rattled in her head. Her shoulder felt like it was being torn out of the socket as they dragged her inside.

One of them flipped Syn over onto her stomach. The other shoved a cotton rag in her mouth, making her choke. It wasn’t until one of them started tugging on her pants did Syn realise what was going to happen. 

Syn screamed as much as she could around the rag in her mouth and struggled for her life. Kicking out, her foot landed on something solid. Her legs were quickly pinned down and Syn felt her pants tear away from her body.

If she could get to her bag, a scalpel was in it. She was no fighter but knew the exact parts to stab for maximum damage. The only problem was in her panic she had no idea where it was.

I’m going to die. They’re going to rape and kill me.

The thought flashed through Syn’s mind as her pants were wrenched free. Her struggles were doing nothing. The only thing she could do is spit out the balled up rag in her mouth and scream again. 

A hand clamped over her mouth. Squeezing her face hard, Syn felt like her entire face was being crushed. Dark spots swam before her eyes and she was sure she was going to pass out.

A loud explosion rocked the room. The weight holding Syn down was suddenly gone. 

She scrambled out of reach, just in time to see a flash of blaster fire. The red glow lit up a very familiar beskar helmet.

The taller of the three ran out the door. He was stopped in his tracks by something Syn couldn’t see. She groped around in the dark, trying to find her satchel or her pants. She wasn’t cold now but once the adrenaline wore off, it was going to be hell.

With one final fire of a blaster, the room was silent. Syn pressed herself back up against the wall. It was eerily silent and all Syn could hear was the pounding of her own heart.

“Mando?” Syn said, her voice cracking. 

“Syn.”

There was a range of emotion in his voice that Syn couldn’t handle. Her lip trembled and she promptly burst into tears.

The great heaving sobs wouldn’t stop. Syn couldn’t breathe through them. On the verge of hyperventilating, Syn felt arms circle around her and she was lifted up. 

“I’ve got you.”

Syn’s arms came to rest around his neck. She couldn’t think or move. All she knew was this was safe. 

Everything was starting to blur together. Syn had no sense of time or where she was. It wasn’t until bright light felt like it was splitting her head apart and she was placed down.

“Syn.”

Her name on his lips made her look up. She could barely see through her tears or the pounding headache that was starting to make itself known.

“You’re bleeding, your nose is broken and I need your help to set it. Can you help me?”

Syn nodded, swallowing back another sob. Having something to focus on helped her mind try and push away the horror from before. The whole thing would have been less than five minutes. To Syn, it had felt like a lifetime. 

Reaching up, Syn wiped her face on her jacket sleeve. It took a moment through her headache to piece together that she was back in her house. She was wrapped up in a blanket along with her top layer of clothes. Her face ached and swallowing hurt. But she was alive and breathing. It was more than she thought she would be five minutes ago. 

Tentatively Syn probed at her nose. As her tears subsided, her medical training kicked in. Her nose was definitely broken. The nasal bone deviated to the left. Syn could taste blood in her mouth. The small movement was enough to make her eyes water from pain.

“This needs to put back in,” Syn said, sniffing back another fresh round of tears. “You need to take it like this.”

Syn’s hands shook as she reached out for Din’s hands. Her’s were nowhere near steady enough to do the job at hand. His hands engulfed her own, squeezing them hard.

“I’ve got you.”

His voice was calm and steady. Everything Syn needed right now. Her lip started trembling again and before Syn could stop it, she started crying again.

Arms encircled her and Syn found herself pulled into a firm embrace. She had no energy to hold herself up and found herself crying into his neck. They both sank to the floor as Syn cried, clinging to him as her life depended on it. 

“I’ve got you,” Din said again, this time his own voice cracked. “You’re safe.”

It took a long time for Syn to cry herself out. She was a mess of emotion. Relief and fear all mixed together. And so much pain. Every muscle and bone in her body ached. Even her hair hurt from being dragged up by it. 

When her tears dried again, Syn still couldn’t move. The pair of them were sprayed on the floor. Din held her up and she was pressed against his chest. Given her encounter, Syn thought the physical contact would have been horrifying. But she felt safe. 

“If you want to set my nose, you’ll have to take your gloves off,” Syn finally broke the silence, her voice thick with tears still. 

“When you’re ready,” came the steady reply.

Syn wasn’t ready. Not in the slightest. She could spend the next week in his arms to feel safe again. She felt if he let her go she’d fall apart and nothing would put her back together. 

Despite herself, Syn buried her head back into the crook of his neck. It hurt her face but she didn’t care. His arms came up to hold her tighter. 

“You’re okay,” he said softly. “I’ve got you.”

For a moment Syn wasn’t sure if that was meant to reassure her. Or him. He’d said it a few times now.

“You saved my life,” Syn’s voice was muffled in his neck. “I owe you.”

“You saved mine,” Din said, turning his head, so Syn was tucked securely up against him. “I’d say we’re even.”

Syn couldn’t help it. A strained chuckle escaped from his lips. It sounded a little manic and far too high pitched. A few stray tears leaked out of her eyes again. 

“Come on, we need to get you cleaned up,” he said gently. “You know yourself that nose needs to be set.”

Syn could feel by the pounding of her face and head that he was right. Reluctantly, she began to untangle herself from his embrace. Her teeth started to chatter and not from the cold. Shock was about to kick in.

“Here.” Din stood up first and offered his hand. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

The role reversal wasn’t lost on Syn. It was always her cleaning him up. 

Her legs were useless as she tried to get up, clutching at the blanket keeping her bottom half covered, she nearly toppled over as soon as she got up. He was there to catch her right away.

“Easy,” he said, helping her lower in the chair. “Do you need anything out of your bag?”

Syn nearly started crying again as he bent down and produced her satchel. It had come a long way with her. One of the last things from another life she had. 

“Maybe something to mop up the blood.” Syn reached up to touch her aching face. “My nose will start bleeding when it’s set.”

“Painkillers?” he asked, rummaging around to produce some clean bandages. 

“After,” Syn said. When he looked up at her, Syn could imagine the incredulous look under the helmet. “They’ll knock me out. I need a clear head to do this. Gloves off?”

Handing the bandages to her, he pulled his gauntlets and gloves off. Usually, it gave Syn a small thrill. There was something about his hands that she loved. Tonight, it filled her with dread. This was going to hurt.

“Okay.” Syn swallowed back her nausea. “You need to put both hands on either side.”

Syn took his hands and placed them on her nose. Using her own hands over his, she guided it to where they needed to be.

“Feel the nasal bone?” Syn’s voice trembled, knowing what was to come. “It has to go back to the right. You’ll feel it slide into place.”

Syn closed her eyes and braced herself. This was something she’d done a hundred times to other people. It was excruciating. She expected him to do it straight away. But there was a hesitation. 

“Whatever you do, Mando. Don’t hesitate. It needs some force.” Syn tried to sound strong. She was feeling anything but right now. “And don’t let me know. Just do it.”

As soon as she said the words. He pushed hard. Syn felt the broke bone slide back into place. Following was blinding pain. She didn’t scream. It was too painful for that. The nausea that was there before turned into bile crawling up her throat. Blood flowed freely from her now set nose.

Swallowing back the bile, Syn grabbed one of the bandages and pushed it under her nose to mop up the blood. Even the light touched flared white hot pain on her entire face.

“Ow,” Syn said gingerly.

Din gave a brief chuckle. He reached up to brush the hair out of Syn’s face. Her curly hair was everywhere. Most of it had escaped from the confines of the usual tight bun Syn wore to keep it out of her face. 

“What else hurts?” he asked, tucking the errant hair behind her ears.

Syn smiled at the simple gesture. She had noticed lately he liked to touch her hair. It was becoming more common place that he did it.

“My arm,” Syn said as she mentally ran over her injuries. “I doubt it’s dislocated but they gave it a good yank when…”

Syn’s throat closed up as the memory hit her. The terror from before was still too fresh, too vivid. Panic clawed at her chest and Syn struggled to breathe.

“Hey.”

Syn found her face being gently cradled between two hands. Hands she was starting to know well. Those same hands that repaired her house when she wasn’t around. The ones that cooked dinner and made sure she ate while he was around. Calloused hands that had such a gentle touch whenever he was pushing hair out of her face. The same hands that killed three people to save her life.

She found herself covering his hands with hers, closing her eyes and taking in a deep breath. It didn’t do much to calm the internal war waging on. But it grounded her. 

“I don’t know if I want to cry or throw up,” Syn’s voice was hoarse. 

“If there’s an option, I’ll take crying.”

His voice was full of humour. Another thing Syn enjoyed to hear, it wasn’t often it crept out but his humour was sharp as her own. Syn found herself smiling before she started crying again. 

She instantly found herself in his arms again. So wound up in her shock, she didn’t know if she had initiated it, or he had. Either way, Syn was very glad he was there. 

Crying herself out took time. Syn was completely exhausted by the time she was done. She had no energy to move or even untangled herself from the embrace that never faltered through her tears. She nearly fell asleep when a movement jolted her back awake.

Din shifted her and easily got to his feet with Syn in his arms. Syn instantly wrapped her arms around his neck. They only went a few steps before Syn found herself on her mattress. It was cold enough she was sleeping in the main room again. 

“It’s late, you need your rest,” he said gently. “I’m going to be right here guarding the door.”

Syn nodded, reluctantly untangling herself from him. Clutching at the blanket covering her legs, she moved onto the mattress and arranged herself on the bed. The nest of blankets was usually a comfort to her. Now she just felt cold and lonely.

Din got up and walked into the bathroom. He came out with one of the smaller towels Syn had. Wordlessly, she took the damp cloth and began to gently dab at her face. Blood coated the towel quickly but Syn felt slightly better for it.

While she was cleaning her face, Din rummaged around in her bag before coming out with the injectable painkiller. He’d kept her in a very good supply of those. Syn had found that amusing to begin with. Now she was extremely glad for his foresight. He handed it to her and Syn quickly jabbed it into her thigh.

It always hurt to inject it. Syn fought back a yelp of pain as it drove into her muscle. She had little fat to pad the area which didn’t help either. The area burned for a few moments before Syn felt the drugs kick into her system. At least they would help her sleep.

The noise of a chair being dragged across the floor made Syn jump. She looked up in time to see Din settle in a chair only a few feet away from the door. His blaster was in hand, sitting in his lap.

He was only a few feet away. But to Syn, it felt like he may as well have been on one of the Core worlds.

“Mando?” Syn said tentatively. She hated how small and weak her voice sounded.

“Yes?”

“Can you guard the door from here?” Syn asked in a small voice.

“Sure.”

It was such an easy acceptance. Syn felt tears well in her eyes in gratitude but managed to keep them in check this time. She hadn’t cried that hard in a very long time. Her eyes felt gritty and sore. Syn knew her pale skin would be puffy and red. Rolling on her side, she watched him walk over.

Din moved across the room and sat on the edge of the mattress. Wordlessly, his free hand went back and Syn slid her own into it. He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

The painkillers kicked in quickly. Syn felt lightheaded and her eyes started to tug down on their own accord. 

“Mando?” Syn needed to say something else before the drugs dragged her under.

“I’m here, Syn.”

She had no idea but him saying her name always made her smile.

“Thank for you being my literal knight in shining armour,” Syn said drowsily. 

A small chuckle was all she got. 

“Stay with me?” Syn’s voice got quieter. The drugs were making staying awake a nearly impossible task.

“Always.”

Syn felt her hand being raised. She was too groggy to open her eyes or react. But just before she fell into unconsciousness, she felt a kiss being placed on the back of her knuckles.

Waking up the next day was a new form of torture. The first thing Syn felt was her aching face, along with a pounding headache. Every muscle screamed in protest as Syn tried to roll over. Squinting she opened her eyes. Both of them were swollen and sore. Swallowing was painful and her right arm ached.

Still, she was alive. She had her personal Mandalorian guardian to thank for that. If he hadn’t been there, Syn doubted she would even be alive this morning. 

She could hear someone moving around in the bathroom. The kettle as on the stove, as was someone sizzling in a pan. It meant her guardian was still here. Syn breathed out a sigh of relief. 

Sitting up proved to be difficult. Syn’s vision swam as she righted herself. Putting her head in her hands, she swallowed back the nausea threatening. 

“I probably should have checked for a concussion,” Syn muttered to herself. 

“Probably.”

Din’s voice made her jump. Syn looked up to see him leaning on the doorframe to the bathroom. He’d shed his armour and was just in his underclothes. 

“Out of the pair of us, who’s got a medical degree?” Syn said trying to smile. It made her face hurt even more. Her head went into her hands. “I feel like shit. I’m need to have a shower.”

Din came forward to help Syn to her feet. Even her legs ached as she hobbled to the bathroom with his help. Closing the door behind her, Syn went to the mirror over the sink.

She looked as bad as she felt. Two black eyes were the first thing she noticed. Her nose was extremely swollen. Tilting her head, she was greeted by a distinct hand shaped bruise around her neck. Dropping the blanket from around her waist, the rest of her wasn’t much better. Various bruises littered her legs and waist. 

Swallowing hard, Syn dragged her eyes away from the mirror. Staring at her reflection wasn’t going to do her any good. 

Getting the rest of her clothes off proved to be another round of pain she wasn’t prepared for. Her assessment last night was right, her arm wasn’t dislocated but it was still painful. Testing the range of motion, Syn’s shoulder caught and flared in pain. Her wrist was black from a bruise that encircled it. 

Hobbling over to the shower, Syn turned the water on. Thanks to his repairs a few months ago, the water was steaming hot in a few seconds and she let herself soak under the spray. Putting her head against the wall, Syn stayed under the water until it turned cold. Wrapping a large towel around herself, she hobbled back into the bedroom to get dressed.

Clean and dressed, Syn felt a lot better. Everything still ached and her head wanted to split into two. Walking back into the main room, Syn found breakfast on the table with a cup of tea. A quick glance out the window showed it to be closer to lunch than breakfast time.

“I need to go see some people,” Syn felt a thread of panic at the late hour. “The mother who had a baby…”

“You need to eat first.” Din came around and steered her into the seat. “Then I’ll come with you.”

Any protest Syn had died on her lips. Whatever he cooked smelt delicious. It was one thing that always amused Syn. She had no idea where he had learnt to cook. But he was an excellent cook. Without any complaint, Syn tucked into her food while he went about putting his armour on. 

Once breakfast was done, Syn downed a handful of the weaker painkillers to get through the day. Din already had her satchel slung over his shoulder. Pulling her hair back, Syn tied it into a messy bun. 

As she got to the front door, Syn suddenly found herself frozen in the doorframe. Her feet wouldn’t move at all. Terror filled her. Visions of the night before swam before her eyes. 

“You’re not there.”

Syn barely heard him over the pounding of her own heart. It wasn’t until he slipped his hand in hers that she felt like she could breathe again.

“You’ve got me,” Din’s steady voice brought her back to reality. “And I will never let anything happen to you.”

Syn felt her heard pound for another reason entirely. His sincerity was so real. Despite her overwhelming terror, she believed every word he said.

The first step out the door was the hardest. But with Din by her side, Syn felt like she could actually do this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's no way I'll be able to keep this writing pace up. But I'm enjoying the momentum while it lasts.


	6. Chapter 6

One thing Din liked about having a helmet on was people couldn’t see his expression. He counted on that to get by when he wasn’t in the mood to deal with people. Right now, he was grinding his teeth in frustration. A noise that was being noticed. The other guild members around him were shooting him nervous looks. 

Work had kept him away from Osoria for far too long. After saving Syn that night he’d stay an entire month. Longer than he’d ever stayed in one place since he was a Foundling. There was something about being there that loosened a knot in his chest. It wasn’t just her company. He found a small measure of peace in the rough town. Accompanying Syn on her daily routine had given him a chance to get to know people. Seeing Syn smile and help them with their lives warmed his heart. 

Thinking back to that night brought upon a rage he’d never experienced in his life. He’d arrived with a new book for her. A habit he’d told himself he needed to break. Yet he’d again stopped at a vendor on a distant planet and found another book for her. Having found and put his bounty in carbonite, he made a detour to Osoria.. It was early evening when he arrived and she wasn’t home. That itself wasn’t uncommon. He wasted a few hours until the hour really started to get late. Stopping by at the local tavern, he’d found out Syn was delivering a baby.

With the directions, Din had set out to find her. He’d barely made it around the corner of the building before he heard her scream. He’d gotten there just as the door had slammed shut. Kicking the door down, he’d killed all three of them without a second thought. 

It had taken Syn two weeks to walk out the door without his help. Din couldn’t help but admire her bravery. She was clearly terrified. As anyone who had been through her situation would be. But she gritted her teeth and did it anyway. It was a different type of bravery than he was used to and he respected her more every passing day where her hands shook so badly he thought she would drop whatever she was holding. But she still managed to smile and keep going. 

He’d only been able to be back for a day or two at a time. Each time she was a little more adjusted and looking less haunted. He still found himself sitting on the edge of her mattress and holding her hand if he was able to stay the night, blaster trained on the door. Even if she didn’t need to take his hand to walk out the door anymore, he still offered it. And she gladly took it every single time. 

His work had kept him away for five long weeks. It was the longest he’d been away from her since he started dropping in on a regular basis. He missed her sharp wit. The one-sided conversations where she would rattle on about work that had him smiling like a fool that she would never see. The nights where he slept against the wall, her hand in his. Her body curled up against him. 

He knew he was being a fool. He should have stopped after the first visit where he wasn’t injured and had dropped the crate of medical supplies off. But then she had thrown her arms around him and everything had changed. He found himself unable to stay away.

On the last visit, Syn had mentioned something about a celebration for the Battle of Endor coming up. Osoria put on a celebration for it every year. Along with the summer solstice celebration, it was the biggest ones of the year. She hadn’t asked him to come but Din was determined to make it there.

Syn never asked him for anything. Except for that night after he had saved her. She asked him to stay. 

And he had stayed. Until it was impossible for him to linger a second longer. 

Now he was chafing to get back to her. To that tiny part of normality that he had with her that never lasted long enough.

His only problem was that unloading his cargo was taking too much time. The port in Nevarro was packed with other guild members, all of them facing the same problem. 

Hours had passed and Din had nearly paced a hole in the ramp of his ship. When someone was finally available to unload his cargo, he stormed off to the cantina. There he was greeted by the man himself, Greef Karga.

“Mando!” He called out, arms open and friendly. “Good to see you.”

Din threw the tracking fobs on the table. He was stony and silent, not taking the offered seat. He was angry, frustrated, and needed to get moving. 

“Well, hello to you too,” Greef said with a small scoff. “What’s got your armour is a twist?”

“I need to get moving,” Din said through gritted teeth. “Why is the port so busy?”

“Business is booming,” Greef explained. “Lots of people out there who need taking down. Where are you going in a hurry?”

Din said nothing. No one knew except to locals on Osoria knew of him and Syn. He planned to keep it that way. While he worked with Greef easily, he wouldn’t trust the man as far as he could throw him. 

“Why don’t you stay and celebrate? The town will be buzzing by tomorrow. After all, the fall of the Empire has kept us in work for these last few years,” Greef continued, reaching into his inner pocket and took out a large bag of credits and emptied it out on the table.

The credits were Imperial. Something Din would have balked at before he knew Syn. On Osoria, they didn’t care where the money came from, as long as you had money. She had never questioned the Imperial credits either. He gladly scooped them up.

Greef was watching him. Din knew the man well enough that he was being judged. Greef wasn’t a fool, he was shrewd and calculating. Din had been taking jobs as close as he could get to Osoria in order to try and stay close. The last few had him on the other side of the parsec. A move he’d done on purpose when he realized he was being too choosy with where he was going.

“What do you have for my next job?” Din asked.

Greef wordlessly placed a few bounty pucks on the table. Din grabbed the first three he found, not caring who or where they were. 

“I was beginning to think you were getting picky, Mando,” Greef said with a chuckle. “Your bounties seem to be concentrated in one area of the parsec.”

Din’s hand paused for a brief moment. He cursed himself for the hesitation, knowing it would be noticed. 

“I found a particularly interesting Twi’lek healing bath that provides a very good service,” Din lied. An image of Syn flashed into his mind if she found about the lie. She’d either stab him with her scalpel or laugh hysterically to be compared to a brothel. “They make it hard to leave.”

Greef laughed heartily, slapping the table as he went.

“Perhaps I should offer you more jobs so you can enjoy your newfound hobby even more,” he said around his laughter. 

“These will suffice,” Din said flatly. “I’ll see you when I finish them.”

Turning on his heel, Din walked out of the cantina. The nagging feeling that his lie wasn’t brought followed him all the way to his next stop.

As usual, he made sure no one was paying any attention to him, he ducked through the blanket covering the opening. Making his way down the steps, he was greeted by familiar helmets giving him a nod. 

Through the winding sewers and familiar paths, he found himself in the presence of the Armourer. Sitting down across from her, he placed some credits on the table. 

“I have a request,” Din said, nodding his head in respect.

The credits were scooped off the table. The Armourer simply nodded.

“I need something small and easy to wield,” Din asked. “Something a woman of small stature can easily conceal.”

The Armorer was not a large woman herself. Din had the idea on the way back to Nevarro. If he couldn’t be around to protect Syn, he could make sure she was at least armed with something that would not fail her. His request made the Armourer look up with a tilt of her head.

“And whom is this for?” she asked.

“A woman who has saved my life. She did so without any question or payment and has helped me ever since.” Din knew being cryptic wouldn’t help him. He could trust his own clan. “She was attacked on my last visit. I can’t always be there for her and I need to know she is safe.”

Din paused. He didn’t mean to say need. It had come out unexpectedly. 

The Armorer looked at him, her head still tilted to the side. It felt like an age before she answered him.

“A dagger would be in order. In the munitions locker, right at the back, there is a small blaster easy enough for someone with smaller hands.”

Din went searching for the offered item. He had no idea if Syn knew how to use a blaster. It would be a good excuse to stay for a few days and teach her. When he found it, he palmed it and tested the weight. It was far too small and light for the likes of him. But the Armorer was correct it would be easy for Syn’s smaller hands. 

Taking the blaster, Din took his seat again and waited for the offered dagger. The hour was starting to grow late. He was getting restless to get moving and on his way to Osoria. Good weapons took time. This would be his last opportunity for the foreseeable future to get them for her.

Just as Din thought his impatience was about to get the better of him, the Armourer turned around and presented the blade to him. 

It was thin and light. To Din, it felt more like a letter opener. But it would be perfect for Syn. There was beskar woven into the blade. While it wasn’t pure, it would make it a strong weapon. It would never go dull or break.

“This is extremely generous. Thank you,” Din’s voice was full of gratitude. 

“As was her gift of saving your life,” the Armorer countered. “And you hers. Treasure this friendship, for they are rare.”

Din inclined his head. There was nothing else to say. All he had to do now was make it to Osoria.

The trip always felt it took a lifetime. Today was no exception. It wasn’t until he dropped out of hyperdrive and the snowy planet came into view, did the tightness in his chest start to ease. As he landed and the ramp of the Razor Crest lowered, he felt like he could breathe again. 

It was mid afternoon. The sun was out and it was a perfect day. For Osoria, it was unseasonably warm. Din gathered her book and new weapons before setting out. People greeted him on his way. The normally desolate town was decorated festively. People were laughing as they roamed the streets. 

Syn’s door was open a crack. He rarely bothered knocking now. Instead, he pushed the door open. The sight in front of him made him do a double take.

“Mando,” Syn said with a smile. She was standing in her kitchen, peering over a bowl. Her hair was loose and she was wearing a flowing dress. “Come and taste this.”

Syn held out a bowl of something white and fluffy. It smelt sweet. The smell of freshly baked goods filled the house. Din realized he hadn’t eaten properly in days.

He stepped forward, unslinging his Amban sniper rifle from around his back. He went to dip his hand in the offered bowl and found it smacked away with a wooden spoon.

“Ah, dirty gloves,” Syn said playfully. Her smile was nothing short of radiant as she brandished the spoon. “Here.”

Syn shifted the bowl and stuck index finger in. It came back out covered in the sweet smelling fluff. As she held it out, Mando’s mind went to places he rarely let himself think of. Not unless he was on his own. Usually on the endless nights in his sleeping area on the Razor Crest. 

Tipping his helmet back slightly, Din took her hand and raised it to his mouth. The substance was as sweet as it smelt. It tasted like honey and flowers. Sucking it off her finger made it seem even sweeter.

Din caught sight of Syn’s flushed face as he sucked the sweet fluff off her finger. He quickly let it go before his own body got carried away. 

“Tastes good,” Din said trying to keep his voice neutral. “What is it?”

“It’s meant to be a filling in these buns.” Syn’s quickly turned around. “I’m a lousy cook but Imanjil promised me even I couldn’t mess this recipe up.”

“It’s delicious,” Din said, moving over into the kitchen with her. After being away for five weeks, he wanted to be as close as she would allow him. “What can I do to help?”

“Get the buns out of the oven?” Syn asked, bumping her hip against his. “Then you can help me fill them.”

“Of course.”

He did as he was told. The buns were a little misshapen but perfectly cooked. He snatched one straight from the pan and shoved it in his mouth. It burned his mouth but it was worth it. He thought he’d gotten away with it for a second until he felt the spoon smack against his arm.

“I saw that.”

Din laughed around his mouthful of the too hot bun. It took him a few moments to chew through it. Pulling his gloves off, he dipped his finger into the sweet filling to taste them together. The plain taste of the bun toned down the sweetness of the filling.

“It’s delicious,” Din said, smiling at her. “You’ve done well.”

“Edible was what I aimed for,” Syn said with a laugh. “Delicious is beyond my expectations. I wanted to bring something to the celebration. Everyone else always does. ”

In a movement too quick for Din to dodge, Syn wiped some of the sweet filling on his helmet. Laughing Din pulled back, reaching up to wipe the sticky mess off. She’d managed to get him over the left eye. It was good to see her in a playful mood. 

“Now make yourself useful and spoon this in while I cut them,” Syn said handing him a spoon and filling. 

Taking his gloves off, Din did as he was told. They were standing hip to hip in the small kitchen. Din enjoyed the small brushes of contact every time they touched. The dress hugged her figure where it needed to and flowed over the rest of her body. A slit up the side showed off a good amount of leg. Din found himself glancing down every time they moved, catching a flash of a shapely leg. 

“I like your dress,” Din couldn’t help himself. He’d never seen her out of pants. She was always dressed so simply. With her hair loose and the flowing dress, she looked different.

“Thank you,” Syn said, swishing the skirts of it around. “Some of the women have been trying to persuade me to wear a dress for the last few years. It’s finally warm enough this year to wear it.”

Din chuckled but didn’t say much else. She looked up at him with another smile. Din returned it, though he knew she couldn’t see it. They fell into an easy rhythm, Syn cutting the buns and Din filled them. Soon they were all lined up on the bench. He couldn’t help but sneak another one in.

“Stop eating them,” Syn laughed as she lightly smacked his arm. 

She was in such a good mood. Din couldn’t help but laugh with her. He barely felt the light blow on his arm. 

“Come on,” Syn said picking up the tray of sweet buns.“Let’s go drink and celebrate.”

Din grabbed his gloves and then took the tray off her. He trailed behind her a step, enjoying the view the dress was giving him as she walked ahead. 

By the time they got to the main square, celebrations were in full swing. Din had only walked past here an hour ago. At that time, a lot of people had already started drinking.

There was food arranged on long tables. Some kind of beast was roasting over a firepit. Alcohol was freely flowing. Din found a drink thrust into his hand by the man whose foot Syn had saved. Someone else had taken the tray of buns off him. Syn was surrounded by people, a drink in her hand. 

This wasn’t Din’s usual scene. He thought about slipping away early but found himself glued to Syn’s side throughout the night. Drink and food both flowed freely. Din’s hand and cup were never empty. Neither were Syn’s. As the night progressed, Syn was starting to look a little drunk. Din wasn’t feeling far off being drunk either. 

It was getting late when Syn pulled him aside. She’d been social and talkative all night. In the private corner, she lent against his chest. With a breathless giggle, she stood up on her tiptoes, leaning in close.

Din found his arms going around her to steady both of them. He was feeling a little unsteady himself.

“Want to go somewhere private for the fireworks?” she breathed into his ear.

“Where do you have in mind?” Din found himself chuckling at the innuendo. Whether she meant it that way, he still couldn’t help himself.

“Top of your ship?” Syn’s smile was mischievous as she pulled away. She staggered a little and Din reached out to steady her. 

“Let’s go.” Din held out his hand. “And let’s get some more fire whiskey for the trip.”

Syn took his hand, giggling as they both staggered away from the crowd. Din snagged a nearly full bottle of fire whiskey from the edge of a table as they disappeared into the darkness. The landing docks were deserted. The Razor Crest the only ship there, giving them even more privacy. 

It took Din a few goes to get the access ladder for the roof stable enough to climb up there. Syn watched him in amusement, drinking from their stolen bottle. 

“Ladies first?” Din stood back, gesturing towards the ladder. 

Syn laughed and handed him the bottle. Gathering her skirts, she began to wobbly climb the ladder.

“Don’t look up my dress,” Syn said laughing as she climbed. “I didn’t do a very good job shaving my legs.”

Shaved legs were the last thing on his mind when Din thought about looking up the dress. It hadn’t escaped his notice that she wasn’t wearing anything under that dress. Or if she was, it was barely enough to cover anything. A thought he kept having to bury all night. 

Once she was far enough up the ladder that Din couldn’t peek, he started his climb. With the bottle of fire whiskey in one hand and far too much alcohol in his system, it was a very unsteady climb. The view at the top was well worth it. 

Syn was sitting down, leaning back on her hands. Her face was tipped up and the full moonlit her face up. Eyes closed and a gentle smile on her face. Her hair was wild, going in every direction. A stark contrast to its usual constraint in a bun. 

She was a siren song. One Din felt powerless to resist. He had enough alcohol in his system that he didn’t want to resist anymore. 

He hoisted himself up and walked over to where she was sitting. It was starting to get chilly. Her breath misted in the air in front of her. The dress she was wearing was sleeveless. Up close Din could see goosebumps up her arms.

Din dropped in behind her, unbuttoning his cloak before he sat down. As he did, she scooted back between his legs. Her back against his chest, Din draped the cloak over both of them. 

She had some sort of perfume on. It had been driving him insane all night. He’d catch snatches of it, but never heavy enough to distinguish what it actually was. Now up close, he couldn’t help but bury his head into her neck and inhale deeply.

It wasn’t light or flowery like most women wore. It smelt of woody spices, cardamom, and cinnamon. The heady scent of it made his head spin. 

“I thought of you when I found it,” Syn said quietly. “Do you like it?”

“I do.” Din couldn’t help himself. He breathed in again deeply. The fact she wore for him made it even better. “It suits you.”

Din felt a shiver go through her body. Instantly, he wrapped his arms around her under the cloak. She reached up and held onto his arms. 

It was a beautiful night. Out here every star in the solar system was visible. Every so often, a shooting star would streak across the sky. 

The peace and quiet soothed Din’s soul. The stress from earlier in the day was long forgotten. A full stomach of food and alcohol with a beautiful woman in his arms made all of Din’s worries disappear.

“I have something for you,” Din said quietly. He loathed breaking the silence but he was excited to give her the gifts.

“What did I do to deserve a gift?” Syn craned her head back, with a smile. 

“Can’t I get my favorite doctor a gift?” Din asked with a chuckle. 

“I’m pretty sure I’m the only doctor you have,” Syn said dryly. “What is it?”

Din pulled the knife from his belt. He brought his arms out from underneath the cloak and held it out to her in the palm of both of his hands. 

Syn took it from him, turning it over in her own hands. Her hair was hiding her reaction from him and Din felt a trickle of nerves. 

“It’s beautiful.” Syn craned her head back to look at him. “Thank you.”

She reached up and planted a kiss on the side of his helmet. 

There had never been a time in his life that Din had wanted to rip his helmet off. Right now, he was willing to forsake everything to feel her lips on his skin. He wanted to explore every inch of her body, finding the spots that made her gasp and say his name. 

“I also got you a blaster.” Din pushed it all away. He had too much to drink. He was in no condition to do anything, no matter how much his body screamed at him. “Do you know how to use one?”

“I’m a doctor.” Syn gave him an incredulous look. “What do you think?”

Her sassy tone made him chuckle. The answer also gave him a very good excuse to stay a little longer. 

“I’ll teach you.”

Syn gave him a beautiful smile before turning around. She was short enough that she tucked under his chin easily. She fit in his arms perfectly.

The world felt right again as Din wrapped his arms around her, There was no thought of anything but how happy he was at this moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I go back to work tomorrow so this will be the last of the fast updates. I'm thrilled with the response so far. Thank you so much for your comments and kudos! They've made my week.


	7. Chapter 7

Syn wasn’t sure if she was still uncoordinated or if it was the distraction behind her that was making her blaster training go terribly. Her sister had tried to train her for years. Syn had hoped it might have sunk in, even after all these years.

Or if it was the fact a certain Mandalorian was standing behind her. Pressed right up against her guiding her with the badly going training.

“Just relax,” he said. “Let the blaster become an extension of your arm. Now put the target in your sights.”

Syn swallowed hard. Her normally steady hands were failing her. All she could hear was the sound of her own heart pounding.

Along with her head.

She’d drunk far too much last night. The pair of them had finished off the bottle of fire whiskey. Syn remembered being drunk enough climbing down the ladder had been a really bad idea. Deciding her home was too far to walk, the pair of them had gotten cosy in Din’s sleeping pod. It was barely big enough for one person. Luckily Syn was a small person. They’d woken up tangled up together.

Syn had been very glad both of them were still dressed. The position she’d woken up had felt more intimate than they had ever been. 

Something felt like it had shifted last night. Ever since the moment, he had sucked the sweet bun filling off her finger. When Syn had offered it, she had expected him to take it off her finger with his own. Not suck it off her finger. The action had Syn wanting to rip the ridiculous dress off and push him to the ground. 

Instead, she pushed it off and tried to keep it far from her mind. It wasn’t until he had buried his head into her neck on the ship that it all came back. Then she’d gone and kissed him on the helmet. 

“Syn.”

She dragged her attention back to what she was doing. They’d found a clearing not far from town and he had set up a few bottles as targets. There had been plenty to choose from as they went through town. Everyone in town looked like they had enjoyed the celebrations immensely the night before.

“The first target on your left,” Din said patiently, moving her arm towards the target. “Now concentrate.”

Syn didn’t have a scrap of concentration available this morning. He was too close. Even though she was sure he was just as turned on by their closeness this morning, she didn’t want to ruin anything. 

“Squeeze the trigger,” Din’s hand was over hers. “Gently.”

Syn did as she was told. Even with his help, the shot still went wide.

“I’m jerking the trigger and it’s knocking it off,” Syn said with a huff of frustration. “I told you I was terrible.”

“You know what’s going wrong and that’s half the problem. It takes practice to overcome it,” Din wasn’t the least bit perturbed. “You managed to hit a few up close.”

“Yeah a foot away,” Syn said with a sigh. It was true. Up close she hit one out of three. But the target was right in front of her. “I can stab someone from that close. After all, I do have a pretty new dagger.”

It was the favorite out of her two presents. The lightweight blade felt as comfortable as a scalpel in her hands. It was beautifully crafted and looked extremely expensive. Especially with beskar through the blade. 

“And where would you stab someone?” DIn’s voice was full of amusement. He took a step back, giving Syn some room.

“Neck, groin,” Syn explained, turning to face him. She took the dagger out of her belt. “Anywhere with an artery is going to wreck someone’s day.”

“Show me.”

“Carotid artery.” Syn moved the dagger up to his neck. “If you stab just behind the larynx and angle it at the back of the neck then yank sideways.”

Syn made the motion with her hand. He didn’t move and Syn found herself smiling.

“Or you could go the armpit. The axillary artery is something most people don’t think of defending.” Syn moved the knife down to his armpit. “It’s really close to the heart and it’ll produce massive blood loss in a hurry.”

“Using your medical knowledge to kill people seems a little like cheating,” Din’s tone was teasing. “Where else?”

“Popliteal artery.” Syn playfully hooked her leg around his. “That’s the back of the knee.”

Din’s weight shifted and before Syn could react, he knocked her to the ground. Before she knew it, he was on top of her. Winded and surprised, Syn couldn’t do much but let out a small huff of amusement.

“And now what would you do?”

Syn went straight for most men’s soft spot. Her dagger went straight to his groin. He stiffened in surprise and Syn felt a lazy smile spread across her face.

“Go for every male's weak spot of course,” Syn said sweetly. “Right in the groin.”

“That’s playing dirty,” Din said with a chuckle, as he did, he reached up to take Syn’s hand.

Syn felt a thread of panic at the movement. He was so close to her. The body over her should have been a source of comfort. Instead, Syn found it suffocating. The panic wouldn’t subside. The heavyweight over her was too raw of a reminder of that night. 

“Mando,” Syn fought to keep her voice level. “Can you get off me, please?”

There was a brief pause before he scrambled up. If Syn wasn’t on the verge of having a panic attack, she would have found the movement funny. 

Sitting up, Syn focused on her breathing. In the nose and out the mouth. Pick a number and hold the breath in for that long. In and out. Syn forced her hands to stay steady and not give in to the panic. 

“Syn?”

“I just need a minute,” Syn said shakily. “I’m okay.”

He gave her plenty of room. As Syn felt the knot in her chest unwind, she reached out her hand. A gloved hand slipped into her own and she felt like she could breathe again. 

“Sorry,” he apologized instantly. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“It’s fine,” Syn said, giving him a wobbly smile. “I’m okay but I still have my moments.”

Moments that woke her up in a cold sweat some nights. Especially when he wasn’t there. Syn never had nightmares when he was around. The long nights by herself were the worst. Last night was the best sleep Syn had in the last five weeks. Though she wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or company that did it. 

There was nothing but the sounds of the local wildlife. Syn’s pounding heart finally calmed down. The steady grip of his hand in hers was reassuring as always. 

“Can we go back?” Syn reached up with her free hand to rub her forehead. “My head is killing me.”

“Sure.”

Din got to his feet and helped her up. As they began to walk back to town, Din took her hand again. Syn found herself walking as close as she could to him. 

It was moments like this where Syn felt like everything could be right in the world again. 

Heading back to town, Syn suddenly found themselves steering towards the Razor Crest instead. Syn glanced up at him at the change of destination. 

“Don’t look behind you, but we’re being followed.”

Syn felt like she was cursed. Any moment where she thought there might be a chance for life to be peaceful always went to shit.

“By who?” Syn asked as she moved closer to him.

“Not one of the locals,” Din said quietly. “When we get to the Razor Crest, I want you go straight up and close the ramp. The controls are on the left hand side.”

“Left hand side,” Syn confirmed. “Got it.”

“Do not open up for anyone,” Din said firmly. “Not until I tell you it’s safe.”

Syn nodded. Now wasn’t the time to argue or be full of bravado. She knew her strength and it wasn’t in a fight. Her training session this morning made that abundantly clear. 

They were silent as they continued on their walk. To a casual observer, they would look like a young couple enjoying a morning stroll. Syn felt her already queasy stomach tie itself into knots the closer they got to the Razor Crest. Syn wanted to look back and see what was happening. Next to her, Din got tenser with every passing second, adding to her own tension.

“Run.”

The unexpected command jolted Syn out of her racing thoughts. Din let go of her hand and gave her a shove in the direction of his ship.

Pounding head and nausea were quickly forgotten as Syn ran. The adrenaline spike outweighed any thought of how unfit she was. Or the fact she hadn’t run in years. 

Syn’s booted feet hit the ramp of the Razor Crest. Going straight for the control panel as she was told, she glanced at the scene before her.

Din was locked in combat with another human male. He was twice his size and welding wicked looking naginata. Despite the firm order to close the ramp behind her, Syn found herself frozen in spot. 

He wasn’t wearing his armour. Syn had barely noticed this morning when they’d made their trek outside. He had a helmet and gauntlets on. It was a habit he’d begun during his stay after the wound to the groin. His blaster went flying from his hand with a solid blow, sending it spinning out of reach. 

The two men were locked in battle. Din had a distinct disadvantage of being unarmed and unable to get within reach. Syn watched in horror as it unfolded in front of her.

The man welding the naginata managed to get the upper hand. Din blocked the blow to the head, but didn’t avoid the spin of the weapon and the stab to the gut. 

Syn found her feet moving before her brain caught up. Her own small blaster in hand she covered the distance of a few feet in a few hurried steps. The attacker was facing away from Syn and she raised the blaster. The first shot went wild, shooting past his ear. He jumped and whirled around to face Syn. The second shot hit its intended target in the face.

The man was dead before he hit the ground. Syn didn’t have time to celebrate the shot, she ran to where Din was laying.

It was worse than she originally thought. Stab wounds to the gut were always hit and mess. They could miss everything vital and only need to be monitored for infection. Or they could kill a person in less than two minutes. She was looking at the latter.

Blood was everywhere. Intestines were poking out from beneath his fingers. Moving his hand aside, Syn was greeting with a mess of intestines and blood coming from out of the gaping wound. It hadn’t been a simple stab. The opponent had stabbed and slashed upwards before pulling the weapon out.

“Mando,” Syn forced herself to stay calm. “I can’t fix this here. Tell me where I need to go. Don’t argue, you’ve got about three minutes before you bleed out. I need to fix this.”

“Nevarro,” his voice was strained and weak. “My tribe is there. Take this.”

His hand went to his neck and his shaking hands tried to take off a familiar necklace that he always wore. Syn grabbed it off for him, holding the metal pendant in her hand. The odd looking skull was something she always meant to ask him about but never had.

“Go through the bazaar. The entrance to the sewers is between the silk and the spice vendor and it’s a red cloak covering the door,” Din’s voice was growing weaker by the second. “Tell them Din Djarin sent you.”

Syn felt a small start of surprise at the sudden revelation. She had his name.

Pushing it aside, Syn quickly stripped her shirt off and tied it around his middle. It was a crude bandage and would do nothing to stop the flow of blood. But she just needed to get him into the ship. As they’d walked off this morning she’d spied a mobile carbon freezing chamber. It was an ancient design and stripped right down to fit into his ship. 

It was a huge gamble. There was a sixty percent chance the freezing process would kill him. But death was guaranteed if she did nothing.

He was unconscious as Syn grabbed him underneath the arms and started dragging him backward. It was sheer willpower that got them both up the ramp. Syn was eternally grateful for the carbon freezing chamber to be at the back of the ship. It took every ounce of strength she had to haul him upright and shove him into it.

Syn used her entire body weight to keep him upright while turning the machine on. As the smoke began to pour out, Syn quickly moved out of the way. Din half slumped forward but the carbon quickly encased him. Holding her breath, Syn checked the side panel where the biometrics scanner would come on.

It was the longest few seconds of her life. Finally, the green light came on. Syn looked back up to see his half slumped form frozen in time.

Syn had to brace herself against the wall as the relief poured through her. It was a huge gamble. She had remembered the topic because there had been an ethical discussion in one of her medical classes about the use of carbon freezing to preserve patients with life threatening injuries. Because it came with a high mortality rate itself, the debate was actually interesting. It was about the only thing she could remember from the ethics class. A laughable subject now as she was patching up a bounty hunter to go and kill more people. The irony wasn’t lost on her in the slightest.

She didn’t have time to stand there mulling over long gone topics. Closing the ramp, she quickly grabbed one of his shirts that was strewn in the sleeping pod and yanked it over her head. She didn’t want to think of what she was covered in right now. At least she wasn’t standing around in a bra. 

Climbing up into the cockpit, Syn faced her next challenge. She knew how to fly. It was about the only thing she had managed to learn from her sister that had actually stuck. It had been years since she had flown and her last trip hadn’t ended well. The only thing stopping Syn from having a full blown panic attack was the task at hand.

She had to get to Nevarro. Looking down at the pendant still grasped in her fist, Syn felt her throat close up. Last night had been magical. A moment of bliss snatched away far too quickly. Once he was patched up, she’d allow herself to have five minutes of pity. 

But he had to get patched up first. Syn hoped his tribe had some serious medical equipment. What she wouldn’t give for a full tank bacta tank. It would be about the only thing that would save him now. 

Swallowing back the sea of emotion that wanted to overwhelm her, Syn started the ship up. The ship Syn and her sister had was old, but compared to the Razor Crest, it would have been considered brand new. The controls were similar to what Syn and flown before, much to her relief. The engines rumbled to life on either side of the ship and Syn lifted off. She knew all she had to do was get out of the atmosphere and the autopilot would do the rest. 

Taking off was relatively easy. Syn could do it as easily as stitching up a wound. As she climbed into the atmosphere, she looked out the window.

Osoria was pretty from above. The warm weather had melted the snow that plagued the planet, leaving it basked in green. When Syn had originally come there, the flight had been terrifying and she hadn’t noticed anything. The first year after crash landing, Syn had wished for it to be anywhere else. Over time, she’d grown to tolerant the cold and appreciate the rough place for what it was. When a certain Mandalorian had crashed onto her doorstep, life had only gotten more interesting. 

Syn felt something wet drop on her hand. Looking down there was a tear. She reached up to wipe her face, only to find it wet with tears.

Sniffling them back, Syn scrubbed her face dry with Din’s shirt. It still smelt of him. It was something she could never distinguish what the actual smells were. But it was him. Taking in a shaky breath, she tried to keep the grief threatening to overwhelm her. He’d given her one precious thing to cling to, no matter what the outcome was. His name.

“Din,” Syn tried the name out on her lips. 

A simple name for a complicated man. If nothing else worked and he died, at least Syn had that. 

Nevarro was hours away. It was easy enough to find in the navigation computer. Jumping to hyperspeed, Syn had nothing to keep her occupied except her thoughts. And worry about what the future was going to bring.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's chapter is brought to you by sitting in a stable with a sick horse with not much else to do except wait and hope. Plus the shorter chapters are easier to push out. 
> 
> Thank you for all the amazing comments and kudos! I haven't got back to everyone yet but I want to let you all know I cherish all the feedback.

It was the early hours of the morning when Syn landed in Nevarro. She wiped her tear stained face one more time before getting up. Her stiff joints creaked in protest after being in one position for so long. The hangover that plagued her in Osoria felt ten times worse now after a long flight with nothing to eat or drink. 

It was of little concern to her now. All she could think of was finding Din’s tribe. The flight here had spent with her doing nothing but worry about what the future was going to bring. Worrying about whether his tribe would have enough medical equipment to even save him. Syn was proud of her skills and fixing near impossible cases. But even this was going to stretch her considerable skill set. 

Gripping the handle of the blaster, Syn descended down the ramp. No one was around at the late hour. There were plenty of ships around. The sounds of music could be heard faintly. 

“Red cloth. Look for the red cloth,” Syn murmured to herself. The trade stalls wouldn’t be open at this time of night. Her grip tightened around the pendant Din gave her. “Come on, Syn. Get moving.”

Jogging into town, Syn kept her eyes peeled. Every flash of red tried to drag her attention away from the task at hand. Everything felt so bright here, even at night time. The vivid colors from around the bazaar was a stark contrast to the dulled hues in the town of Osoria. The hot and dry air made sweat trickle down Syn’s back.

Finally towards the end of the main street, Syn came to stop in front of a red drape. Outside, there was no breeze. But this had a slight billow coming from behind it. 

Cautiously, Syn pulled it back and peered down into the darkness. There was barely any light but the little there was illuminated a step. 

Putting her foot down, Syn gathered her courage and stepped into the dark. She tentatively reached out with her foot again, feeling until she found the next one. Then the next. And the next. 

At the bottom of the stairs, Syn reached out and groped around until she found a wall. Her fingers ran along the rough material as she descended further underground.

“Stop.”

The command came from the darkness. Syn couldn’t see a damn thing and stopped instantly.

“Din Djarin sent me.” Syn held up the pendant with shaking hands. “Please help me. He’s badly hurt.”

Out of the darkness came a towering Mandalorian. His armor was much different than Din’s. His menacing presence made Syn take a step back. 

“Please.” Syn was on the verge of begging. “He needs your help.”

“Come with me.”

Without waiting, he turned around. Syn quickly fell into step behind him. The maze of tunnels was dizzying. Syn felt her ears pop as they descended further down. The lingering stench grew stronger the further they want. When Syn felt completely lost, they finally emerged into a large brightly lit chamber.

A woman, not much taller than Syn was standing in the center of the room. 

“I’m Syn.” Syn couldn’t waste another second. “Din Djarin sent me. He’d badly wounded and he said I could get help here.”

A barely there tilt of the helmet sent a rush of activity behind Syn. More Mandalorians emerged from the shadows.

“Come with me.”

The Armorer turned and walked away. Syn rushed forward and fell into step behind her. More twists and turns brought Syn into another room. As the woman Mandalorian opened the door, Syn nearly fell over in relief. A well equip medical room. It was old but Syn had worked with a lot less. While it didn’t have the Bacta tube Syn had wished for a thousand times on the journey here, a small vial of bacta spray was better than nothing. 

“What happened?” the Armourer asked. 

“We were attacked,” Syn an odd sense of calm slide over her. This was all familiar. A part of an old life that felt like sliding into a pair of well worn shoes. She went straight to the supply closet and started pulling out everything she needed. “He wasn’t wearing his armor and got a stab wound to the stomach.”

Facts were easy for Syn to stick to. Facts didn’t make her emotional. She got out everything she could possibly need and laid it out neatly.

“I used the carbon freezing chamber in his ship before he bled out,” Syn said, moving to the sink to scrub in. “It’s bad. I don’t know if I can save him even with all of this.”

“You thought fast.”

Syn looked over at the other woman, trying to gauge her reaction.

“Not fast enough.” Syn turned her gaze back to her soapy hands. “I’m going to have to keep him under sedation while I try and fix everything. Usually, that means the person needs to be ventilated. That’s a little hard to do with a helmet on.”

Another problem Syn had run into during the long trip there. She had no idea what to do about the helmet situation. She’d never seen it off and she was sure she’d read something about that being part of their way of life. That the helmet could never be put back on if it was taken off. 

“He will forgive you if it’s to save his life,” the Armourer said simply. “Do what you must.”

Syn felt relief pour through her. As she finished washing her hands, a group of Mandalorians came in with her’s. The carbonite block was floating through the air was a guard of Mandalorian’s on every side.

Hers. Syn felt herself pause at that thought. She’d never thought of him that way. Pushing away that very distracting thought, she walked over to the table.

“Who has steady hands?” Syn asked, addressing the group as she snapped her gloves on. “Because when he comes out of carbon, I may need someone to hold him down.”

Syn licked her suddenly dry lips. Pushing aside her nerves, Syn got a nod of all heads in the room.

“Anyone who has a weak stomach needs to leave right now,” Syn switched into doctor mode as she strode over to him. “Because this is a mess.”

Her nerves steeled as she began the process of defrosting Din. It only took a moment before the frozen block began to glow. Syn grabbed the oxygen mask hooked to the gas for the inhalation sedation. 

“Okay, get ready in case he struggles.” Syn felt a calm wash over her. She’d done surgery a million times before on patients just as bad as this. This is what she knew. “In three, two, one.”

He was fully defrosted. Syn waited for a movement. Anything. But he was still.

Syn ignored the lack of movement and went straight for his helmet. She felt like she was committing a mortal sin as she grasped the freezing beskar. Lifting the cold steel, Syn finally found herself looking at his face.

He wasn’t much older than herself. Tanned skin with a scruffy beard. His brown eyes were half open but he wasn’t responsive.

Pushing that all aside, Syn fit the mask firmly over his mouth. It sealed with a barely audible hiss. Syn looked up to see every Mandalorian in the room with a turned back. Out of respect

Getting to work, Syn hooked her foot on the tray with all the medical supplies on and dragged it over within reach. Untying her shirt from around her middle and cutting his shirt away, she went straight to work.

He was still bleeding badly. Syn dug her hand in and went straight to his liver, feeling for any lacerations. A sluggish bleed on the portal vein was the culprit. Syn could feel it oozing in her hands. Pinching it, Syn reached for her suturing equipment.

“Would you like a spare set of hands?”

Syn glanced up to see the Armorer come forward. 

“If you could hand me what I ask for, I would appreciate it.” Syn pointed to her forceps and suture material. “Those first.”

Wordlessly, the other woman handed her the items. Syn took in a deep breath and got to work.

Repairing the liver was easy. A simple ligation of the bleeding vein was all Syn needed to do. The spleen was intact much to her relief. Now she needed to deal with the mess of intestines. 

Part of the colon was sliced open. Syn went to work with the delicate process of controlling the contamination of the bowel contents into the abdominal cavity. Suturing the first section of the sliced bowel was easy. Then came the laborious task of checking each inch of the bowel and small intestine. Syn closed several more lacerations as she went, giving each a small spray of bacta as she went. Abdominal injuries were horrendous for infection and Syn had to be sure she closed every open incision. Otherwise, as soon as she closed him up, any tiny amount of bowel spillage would be a disaster on any open wound. 

Layer by layer, Syn carefully pieced Din back together. The last of the bacta spray went on the last layer of internal stitches right before she closed the massive wound back together.

As the last suture went in, Syn sat back with a tired sigh. His abdomen was a mess. She’d lost count after the 209th suture internally. His entire torso was one big bruise. She didn’t feel much better. Her hands ached. Her back hurt. But he was back together and still breathing. 

Syn got up and found the bag full of IV antibiotics and fluids. With practiced ease, they were both hung and dripping into him. Taking off the oxygen mask, Syn was relieved to hear him breathe on his own straight away. She gave him another shot of sedatives and painkillers to keep him quiet for the next few hours. It was all Syn could do. 

Now it was up to Din to pull through.

As she stood up, the group of Mandalorian’s left the room. They had all been silent statues during the long hours. Now all that was left in the room was Syn and the Armourer. 

“Can I get you anything?” the Armourer asked. 

“A chair and a drink would be wonderful.” Syn’s stomach was too wound in knots to think of eating. “Thank you.”

With a nod, Syn was left alone. The temptation to sink to the floor was great. Instead, she kept herself busy by checking and re-checking everything was in order. Then she turned to look at his face.

His face was smoothed over in sleep and he looked peaceful. Syn couldn’t help but place her hand on his cheek, feeling the rough unshaved stubble beneath her fingers. 

“Hi, Din,” Syn’s voice choked with emotion. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

There was no answer. Not that she expected one. She’d given him enough sedative to sleep for at least six hours. 

He was breathing evenly and deeply. Syn bent down and kissed his cheek, resting her forehead against his. She was so tired. Underground there was no way to tell how much time had passed. She picked up his helmet off the floor and gently placed it back over his head. 

One of the silent Mandalorian’s came back with a chair and placed it next to her. 

“Thank you,” Syn said hoarsely. 

He nodded and then left without another word. Syn pulled the chair up next to Din and gratefully sank down into it. There was enough room on the table that she could put her head in her arms next to him.

“You better live, Din,” Syn said tiredly. Her voice was muffled in her arms. “My hands hurt from stitching you together.”

As tired as she was Syn couldn’t sleep. So much could go wrong in the next few hours. Just because the surgery had gone well didn’t mean the recovery would. Lifting her head, Syn reached down and felt for a pulse on his wrist. The pulse jumped out steadily underneath her fingers. 

The Armorer came back with a bottle. Syn took it gratefully and drank deeply. Even the water tasted different here. She wiped the sweat off her forehead and leaned back in her chair.

“How is he?” the Armorer asked.

“Alive.” Syn’s gaze dragged back to her patient. The steady rise and fall of his chest was reassuring. “I’m hoping he stays that way.”

“You have considerable skill,” the Armorer said in a curious tone. “Where did you train?”

“Coruscant,” Syn said with a tired smile. “I really am a doctor. You can look up my records.”

“That I have no doubts about,” the Armorer said, amusement tinging her voice. “I watched you piece him together with my own eyes. It takes true skill to do what you did.”

“Putting people back together after other people cut them up was my specialty,” Syn let out a small huff of amusement. “I suppose it still is.”

“In this instance, I would consider Din a lucky man,” the Armorer said. “How did you meet? He told me of you in his last visit.”

“Much like this.” Syn’s smile wasn’t forced this time. “He fell on my doorstep after being stabbed by a Clawdite bounty hunter with a poisoned dagger. I’d seen it before and knew how to treat it.”

Syn thought back to their first meeting. It had changed her life for the better. No matter what happened now, she would cherish this friendship for however long she lived. 

“Then he came back with a dislocated shoulder, then a wound to his groin,” Syn said with a small laugh. “After that, he kept coming back with injury after injury. I may have laughed a little too hard at him when he broke his toe and I had to set it.”

The Armorer chuckled as well.

“Then he saved my life.” Syn’s smile fell. “And every time I feel like I have some happiness in my life it gets ripped away in an instant.”

The room was silent as Syn went back to watching Din. His steady breathing was doing little to calm Syn.

“It’s better to have moments of happiness than none at all.”

Syn back up at the other woman, surprised by the words.

“He told me when he asked for your dagger that he needed to have you safe,” the Armorer continued. “Not wanted, needed”

Syn thought back to all the times Din had stayed with her. The nights where she came home to a cooked dinner and hot fire. Her collection of books always grew when he came back. The walks together. Nights where she snuck a little closer while pretending to be asleep so she could curl around him. Last night on the roof of the Razor Crest. He never complained about any of it. Syn treasured every single moment they had together. 

Perhaps she wasn’t the only one who enjoyed the visits. There was no reason for him to always come back. Especially on the visits where he was uninjured. The little presents he brought along the way. Syn’s bookcase was ready to burst at the seams from all of the new ones he kept giving her. 

“I suppose,” Syn said softly. “The thing is, I need him safe too.”

“We are both the hunter and the hunted in this way of life. Being safe is a rarity. But having a doctor as your friend is very handy.”

Syn smiled in agreement and found herself reaching for Din’s hand. It was slack in her grasp, something she wasn’t used to. She liked his hands. They were strong and comforting, but gentle when they needed to be. 

“I will leave you in peace. If you need anything you can ask anyone. I will make sure no one disturbs you.”

“Thank you.” Syn put every bit of gratitude she could into those two words. 

“No, thank you for saving his life without hesitation,” the Armorer said with a nod of her head. “Both times.”

And with that Syn was left with nothing but her thoughts. 

It was an odd feeling suddenly having nothing to do again. All the waiting and stressing on the flight here. Then to being busy for hours on end putting him back together. Now Syn found herself fidgeting with everything she could. She checked the IV’s running into him twice. Took his pulse three times to make sure it was right. When she had nothing else to do, she rechecked the wound. 

Sitting back down, Syn took his hand again. She knew it would be hours before he’d wake up. That was if he woke up without any side effects from the carbon freezing, not to mention the surgery. There were still a dozen things that could go wrong. 

“We’ve got a lot to figure out, Din,” Syn said tiredly. “But for now, I just need you to wake up.”

The only answer Syn got was the steady breathing. Not that she expected anything else. 

Hours ticked by with nothing to do but wait. His vitals remained steady. A few times he stirred but never fully woke. Syn finally felt exhausted enough to put her head in her arms and doze off.

“Syn.”

The hoarse voice made Syn snap back upright instantly.

Din was still on his back, but his head was turned towards her.

“Hey,” Syn felt relief course through her. “Don’t move. I have literally stitched your insides back together.”

“Everything is blurry,” he said thickly. Every word was a struggle to get out.

“Hibernation sickness.” Syn got to her feet and stood up to get a better look at everything. “You’re going to feel like you had a really bad day.”

He was sweating. It was humid down here in the room. Running a medical scanner over him showed a spike in temperature. Not enough to make Syn worry excessively yet. But enough to be concerned. There was plenty that could have gone wrong through his surgery. Even the smallest amount of bowel spillage still in the abdominal cavity could be fatal. Sepsis would kill him quicker than she would be able to fix.

“Never a bad day with you here,” he said tiredly, shaking Syn from her worries. “Stay with me?”

Din held out his hand. Syn took it and grasped it firmly. Sitting back down, she raised his hand to her face and laid her cheek in it.

“Always.”


	9. Chapter 9

The sweet moment didn’t last. Over the next few hours, the fever kept spiking higher, causing Syn’s stress levels to go up with it. Going through the cupboards she found more antibiotics and fluids. 

“This is going to make you feel like shit,” Syn said to the unconscious again Din. “As in if I don’t pump you full of antiemetics, I’m going to hold your helmet up so you can puke more than you ever have in your life.”

Syn got to work hanging up the various bags. It was a cocktail of antibiotics that she wouldn’t wish on anyone. But it was going to hopefully stave off a worse infection than what was already setting in. The vision of peritonitis and intra-abdominal abscesses kept nagging her. Syn wasn’t sure she was ready to cut him open again if there was an abscess forming. He may not give her a choice.

Armed with more drugs, Syn got to work. She filled him up with more painkillers and another sedative to keep him asleep. The promised antiemetics to stop him from throwing up. The last thing they needed was him throwing up and rupturing all of the stitches. 

“Looking at all of these supplies, I think your tribe is just as accident prone as you,” Syn said, trying to keep the mood light for her own benefit. “Occupational hazard I’m guessing.”

Running the medical scanner over him for the tenth time that hour, Syn didn’t see any improvements. But there was no decline either. 

Syn wearily rubbed her forehead. She knew all she needed was time. This wasn’t an injury that was going to fix itself in the next few hours. Even with the bacta on the more serious parts, it wouldn’t be instantaneous. Not much how much she scanned and willed him to get better.

That was the hardest part of her job. There was no magic wand to make everything better. She had patients who would come in with the mildest of injuries, only to crash and die while she stood by helplessly with no explanation. Other times, Syn had been sure they’d die before she could start the surgery go on to make miraculous recoveries. You could never pick which way things would go. 

Right now, Syn hoped what she had done was enough. Now all that was left to do was wait.

And wait.

Syn dozed in the chair. When she woke up, she realized how bad she smelt. Sweat mixed with blood and entrails was enough to make her empty stomach recoil. Going into the small bathroom, she stripped off and got into the shower. Taking the dirty clothes with her, she scrubbed the worst of the stains out of them while in the shower. Releasing her hair from it’s tight bun she stood under the water and let it soak through. Her curls were more unruly than usual. The humidity was giving them far too much life, tightening into springy curls. Wrestling her hair back into its usual bun took more time than the actual shower. As Syn shut the water off, she heard a noise from the other room.

Grabbing a towel, Syn raced back into the main room. Only to find the Armorer standing there with a bundle of clothes in her hands.

“I walked past and heard the shower. We are not so different in size,” she explained, placing the items on the chair. “Someone will bring food up shortly.”

“Thank you.” Syn felt like she was always thanking the other women for something at the moment. “I forget to eat when I’m stressed. I woke up and realized how much I stank. There’s no concept of time down here.”

“Roughly 36 hours have passed since you arrived,” she informed Syn. “It is the evening of your second day.”

Syn wasn’t surprised much. The surgery had taken hours and she’d been dozing on and off since then. She looked over at Din who was still breathing. 36 hours may seem like a long time but they still had a long way to go.

“I’ll get dressed. Thank you again.” Syn tore her gaze away from the bruised body. 

With a nod, the Armorer left her in peace. Syn went back to the bathroom and pulled on the new clothes. The other woman had been right that they were a similar size. After a shower and a new set of clothes, Syn felt like a new person. She’d been without the simple things in life often enough that she never took something as simple as a hot shower for granted anymore.

Going back out to the main room, Syn found the promised food waiting for her. It wasn’t until she the smell of whatever the spicy meat was in a bowl wafted up to her that she realized she was ravenous. Inhaling the food she reached down to take a sniff of the contents of the cup. The spicy meat had an overpowering smell. It wasn’t until the cup got close that Syn recognized what was in the cup.

Coffee.

She wasn’t a huge coffee drinker. It was her sister who would have happily chewed off her own arm for a cup of coffee. Especially when it smelt as good as this one.

Syn felt her throat close as she shakily lowered the cup. Out of nowhere, there would be reminders of her sister that made her feel like she couldn’t breathe because the grief would choke her so hard. Coffee was one of them. Syn hadn’t smelt coffee in years. 

Pushing it aside, she took a sip. The caffeine would be very helpful over the next few days.

Tasting the acidic brew, Syn found her memory drifting back to better times. Times where she had a fully equipped surgery at her disposal. Nights where her sister would be back from a mission and jump on her bed to wake her up like they were children again. Those were the nights where they’d shared a coffee in Syn’s small room and Ela would excitedly chatter about whatever crazy thing she had done. Syn would be exhausted for work the next morning but she wouldn’t have missed their conversations.

“You’d laugh if you saw me now, Ela,” Syn said tiredly, taking another sip. “It seems like our roles are reversed. I’m having the big adventures.”

And her sister was in an unmarked grave. A place where only Syn knew existed.

Syn sighed heavily, rubbing her face. Going down that trail of thought wasn’t going to help now. She still had a long few days ahead of her.

Finishing the coffee gave her a jolt of much needed energy. Syn went back to checking on Din.

His temperature was still high. The wound looked clean and was only weeping slightly. Overall, Syn was satisfied he wasn’t going to die in the next few hours. 

With nothing else to do, Syn set about cleaning him up. His pants were as dirty as her own had been. His boots and leg armor were also filthy but she took care in taking both off. Before she cut away his pants, she threw a sheet over to preserve some sense of modesty. His sense of modesty was something that amused her. 

Once his pants were cut away and discarded, she had checked on him yet again. Nothing had changed for better or worse. 

It became a routine for the next few days. Syn only left the room to shower and once when the Armorer had persuaded her to leave the room for an hour and join for her a drink. Otherwise, she remained at a constant vigil over Din. He briefly stirred a few times. Nothing more than saying her name and reaching for her. Each time she was there to take his hand and hold it until he settled. His fever spiked and then broke. A minor infection set into the large wound on his stomach that she had to unstitch and drain. 

On the sixth day, she had been dozing with her head on the table. A gentle shake of her arm made Syn look up. 

Din was attempting to sitting up, bent over in obvious pain. 

“Hey.” Syn shot to her feet. “Come on, take it nice and slow.”

She took his hand and placed a supportive hand on his back. It was an agonisingly slow process to get him upright again. When he was sitting up, he bent forward with his head in his hands.

“I feel terrible,” came the hoarse reply.

“You look it too,” Syn said lightly. “How about you lie back down? I had to re-stitch your stomach yesterday and I don’t want you to bust anything open.”

“I need to use the privy,” Din’s voice was scratchy. He nearly toppled off the bed as he tried to swing his legs over the side.

“Easy,” Syn grabbed him before he could fall to the ground. “I can get you a pan.”

Even with his helmet on, Syn could tell he was giving her an incredulous look. 

“Don’t give me that look,” Syn chided him. “I’ll help but if you bust those stitches you’re putting them back in yourself.”

“Because that worked out so well last time,” Din’s strained laughter made Syn smile. 

“I’ll teach you to suture if you continue my blaster lessons. I have a feeling it will go about as well as my shooting,” Syn said lightly. “On three, let’s get you standing up. One, two, three.”

He managed to get to his feet without sending them both toppling. It was a slow trip to the bathroom. Din had to stop every two steps to catch his breath. Syn patiently waited with him. Her own back was aching by the time he collapsed on the toilet. 

“Yell out if you need anything.” Syn left the room, giving him some privacy. 

It didn’t take long before he was done. Syn helped him hobble back to the bed. He instantly collapsed back on it, breathing heavily. Syn took his legs and helped lay him flat again.

“Everything hurts,” he said through panting breaths. 

“I bet it does,” Syn said with a small chuckle. “You’re lucky to be alive.”

“Not lucky,” Din said tiredly. “I’ve got you.”

Syn felt her heart swell with a rush of emotion. Before she could answer, his breathing had evened out and he was asleep.

It was a huge improvement. Getting up and moving the tiny distance might not seem like much. But after major surgery and a day of unconsciousness, it was good to see him wanting to be up. 

He woke up a few more times the next few hours. Syn kept him well topped up with painkillers and helped him sit up to drink. Syn was carefully examining the stitches on his stomach when the Armourer came in with a cup of coffee.

“Thank you.” Syn had grown quite fond of this blend of coffee. She was going to miss it when she went back to Osoria. “He’s been awake. I finally have hope he’s going to pull through.”

“There was never a doubt about that,” the Armourer said kindly. “I do have a request if you are up to it.”

“Anything,” Syn said eagerly. “You helped me save his life. What do you need me to do?”

“One of our others has come back with a large wound on his shoulder. It’s in an awkward position if you could look at it.”

“Sure.” Syn drained the last bit of coffee. “Lead the way.”

Syn hadn’t seen much else of the hidden covert. It was a maze of tunnels and well placed rooms. As they walked Syn saw her first glimpse of sunlight for the first time in days. It filtered through one of the grates coming from the street. It was also unbelievably hot. Syn hadn’t sweated this much in years. 

Walking into the room, this felt more like an old school military bunkhouse. Sitting in a chair was another Mandalorian in a blue helmet. He nodded his head in respect as Syn entered the room.

“Okay, what have we got,” Syn asked as she snapped a pair of gloves on. It was one thing she had missed immensely. Gloves. Her supply in Osoria had run out in the first month. No matter how many times she scrubbed her hands, it still felt wrong to treat patients's with bare hands. 

The slash went from the bottom of the shoulder blade and up a few inches below the neck.

“How did you manage to do this?” Syn asked bemused by the awkward position and angle of the slash.

“Fell,” the Mandalorian said with a grunt. 

“Are you another one I have to tell that you need to learn to dodge?” Syn asked as she poked the wound. 

To her surprise, she got a genuine laugh out of the other Mandalorian. Syn smiled and got to work. It was deep enough it would need stitches. 

“Paz,” he offered while Syn worked. “We met the night you arrived.”

This was different for Syn. She had assumed the rest of the Mandalorians would be like Din. Quiet and reserved. He still wasn’t the talkative type. 

“Oh yes,” Syn said with a smile. “Big scary guy. I see why they put you on guard duty.”

“Did I scare you?” Amusement was heavy in his tone. “I’ll have to make up for that.”

Syn had just gone to inject the local anesthetic. She jammed in it a little harder than necessary, causing him to flinch. Something she enjoyed doing when a patient got a little too friendly.

“Oh, sorry,” Syn said with a fake apology. “Did I jab too hard?”

“You may have hit bone,” Paz said with a pained tone. 

“My mistake,” Syn fought very hard to keep her tone even. “By the way, that was muscle. This is bone.”

She jabbed the local in an area over the scapula with very little muscle coverage. This time he nearly fell off the chair in surprise. 

“I can see why he likes you.” Paz sat back with a pained laugh. “Ouch.”

“Come on tough guy,” Syn couldn’t help but laugh. “Sit still and stop flirting. I promise I’ll stop stabbing you.”

Paz was surprisingly chatty while Syn worked. After silence for so many days, it was a welcome change. After she had done stitching him, another appeared with a poorly set trigger finger which Syn had to re-break and set again. Then to her surprise, a child came in wearing a helmet with a scraped knee. 

“I didn’t realize there were children here,” Syn said to the Armorer after she finished cleaning off the wound. The girl had thanked her sweetly and scampered off.

“The Foundlings are our future,” the Armourer explained. “By our creed, any child found are either reunited with their own kind or raised with us until they are old enough to choose their own path. They may join us as Mandalorians or find their own way in life. Din was once a Foundling.”

Syn found herself surprised yet again.

“He doesn’t speak himself much,” Syn said with a smaller smile. “Then again, neither do I.”

It felt like something unspoken between them. Neither of them mentioned much from their pasts. There were things in her past that she would gladly forget.

The Armorer said nothing as the pair walked back to Din’s room. He was still asleep.

“If he continues to improve, I’d like to take him back to Osoria,” Syn started. It had been on her mind a lot since he’d woken up the first time. “I’ve been away far too long and I have people who rely on me too.”

“Of course,” the Armorer said. “When you are ready, we’ll get him to his ship.”

Just like that. Syn had thought there might have been more argument on the matter. 

“I trust your judgment,” the other woman continued. “He will heal better with you in a peaceful environment. If it is not too much bother, I would ask if we ever need your services that we are able to call on you. We can pay you handsomely”

“I don’t need to be paid. It would be my honor.” Syn was flattered beyond words. “I don’t have a communicator at home though.”

“I will arrange for one. Let me know when you are ready to leave. You will have to leave under the cover of darkness. There are too many eyes in town and you don’t need any attention.”

“Thank you.” Syn owed the Mandalorian’s a lot. Without their help, Din would have never survived. She may have pieced him back together but it was his tribe’s generosity that had allowed her access to the things she needed.

“This is the way.”

It took another two days before Syn felt comfortable enough to move Din. Even then it felt rushed. He could sit up by himself but still needed help to walk. Syn was beginning to worry about people back in Osoria. All she had to do was say the word and it was done. Someone had retrieved Din’s armor from the Razor Crest and now Syn was helping him get dressed.

“This is ridiculous,” the frustration came through clearly in Din’s voice. “I should be able to dress myself.”

“Should and can are two totally different things,” Syn said with a gentle tease. “You’ve just had major surgery. Now stop being a pain in the ass and help me with this armor. It’s a complicated as brain surgery.”

Din chuckled and with agonizing slowness, the pair of them managed to get him dressed. It was even slower getting him to his feet and moving. 

“Once we get out of the tunnels, you’ll need to let me go,” Din said, already breathing heavily. “If anyone sees us, they can’t know I’m injured. The guild prey on weakness.”

Syn wasn’t going to argue. This was his territory and she would follow his lead. 

As they exited the sewers, Din straightened up. Like a switch being flicked, he strode forward with no sign of his injury. Syn had to hurry to keep up with him. The town was dead and there wasn’t a soul around. As soon as they reached the Razor Crest and the ramp shut, Din doubled over.

Syn helped him to his sleeping pod without a word. She was amazed he’d gotten as far as he did. 

“I’ve got more painkillers if you need them,” Syn said as she helped him lay down.

“Who’s going to help you fly the ship?” Din asked, his voice raspy. 

“I got us here. I can get us home,” Syn said reassuringly. “Just lay down and relax. I’ll come get you if I need anything.”

“You’re the only person I would trust to fly her,” Din’s voice was strained and tired. “Promise you’ll come down once you set the course?”

There was barely enough room in the sleeping pod for him. It was going to be awkward. Syn knew she should say no. But she couldn’t stop herself.

“Of course I will. I’ll be down as soon as I can.”

Syn climbed the ladder and went into the cockpit. Flying wasn’t as terrifying as last time. She could take her time starting up and setting the course back to Osoria. As they left the atmosphere, Syn put into the flight computer to go home. Pushing a level, they jumped to hyperspace. 

Syn was out of her seat as soon as they jumped. Sliding down the ladder, she went over to the sleeping pod. He was asleep.

For the first time since they had been attacked, she found herself curling up into his side. He woke enough to put his arm out so she could lay on his chest. Slinging her leg over his, Syn let herself enjoy the moment of peace. She could feel his heart beating underneath her hand and the steady thump of it was reassuring. He managed to cheat death again. 

“I owe you my life,” Din’s tired voice made her smile. “Again.”

His arm pulled her in closer. Syn felt the stress of the last two weeks melt away at his touch. 

“Again,” Syn repeated with a smile. “Let’s go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the well wishes for my horse everyone. She's thankfully pulled through without any dramas, though it was a bit touchy for a bit.


	10. Chapter 10

It took Din six weeks before he was feeling anything near normal again. Though Syn told him on a daily basis that he needed to be patient, he was frustrated by the lack of progress. If he’d been anywhere but on Osoria with Syn, he would have hated it.

But despite his frustration, he found life slipping into an easy routine. He slept a lot for the first week. It was the best sleep he’d had since he woke up feeling like a pack of Bantha’s had run him over. He couldn’t sit up to sleep like he usually did. Laying on his back, Syn always ended up tangled up with him. He cherished the mornings he woke up before her and he got to enjoy her body pressed against his. 

The people of Osoria had welcomed them both back with open arms. The first day Syn went and started seeing people again, there was a knock on the door barely five minutes after she left. It was the local tavern keeper dropping them off food. The Twi’lek baker with her hoard of children wasn’t far behind, dropping off fresh bread. Her children were always fascinated with him and he didn’t mind them hanging off him asking a million questions. 

When Syn had said let’s go home on the Razor Crest, he’d wanted to correct her. It wasn’t home. But then on the first day back, it had felt more like home than any other place he’d ever been. 

And it was all thanks to him falling on the right doorstep getting stabbed. Din didn’t believe in fate or chance. But he was forever grateful it was her that found him that night. 

The evening of the summer solstice festival, Din found himself holding half of Syn’s hair back while she attempted to braid it. 

“Just leave it out,” Din hasn’t stopped laughing in the last five minutes. 

Syn was attempting a complicated braid that one of the other women in town had shown her. Unfortunately, it wasn’t working on her thick curly mane. 

“It’s hot,” Syn complained, pulling her face at him in the mirror. “And since I’m wearing this dress again, I want to look different than last time. Let me be vain for once.”

Syn was the least vain person Din knew. So he did as he was told, holding her hair so she could try and do the braid. Not that he wasn’t enjoying the view of her swishing around in the same dress from last time. 

“It’s not hot,” Din said still laughing. “Just because it isn’t snowing, doesn’t make it hot.”

Syn poked her tongue out at him in the mirror. Din found himself smiling at her from underneath the helmet. Life had been peaceful these past few weeks. Going back to work was the last thing on his mind. His tribe had taken care of the bounty pucks he’d picked up before coming back to Osoria. There was nothing left for him to do but heal. 

“It’s warmer than average,” Syn argued back. “Just do as you’re told and hold my hair.”

Din laughed again and did exactly as he was told. Holding her hair back gave him a view of her bare neck. The same one he’d nearly been caught nuzzling this morning. 

Syn slept deeply. Something Din had been taking advantage of in the morning. He nearly always woke up before her. He’d take the time to enjoy her curled up against him before getting up to have a shower. This morning he’d woken up spooning Syn. She has pressed right against him that Din felt he couldn’t tell where one of them ended and the other started.

He’d been dreaming of her. Dreams that he wished he wouldn’t happen when she was this close to him. He’d woken up rock hard. Syn’s ass pressed into his crotch had not helped in the slightest. She was fast asleep and he couldn’t help himself. Tipping his helmet, he nuzzled into her neck. Like a damn fool, he couldn’t stop himself kissing the bare skin.

She’d stirred far too quickly, arching her body into him as she woke up. It hadn’t helped his situation at all. One he couldn’t remedy until he was in the shower. A habit that was having to do nearly every morning. 

He couldn’t keep his hands off her. Every moment he was near her he wanted to be touching her. He was a drowning man and she was his oxygen he needed to live. But he couldn’t bring himself to take the next step, no matter how much he wanted her. That night he’d saved her from being raped played heavily on his mind. She still had moments where she shied from his touch for a moment before relaxing again. Nights when she woke up with a start. Telling him to go back to sleep when he asked if she was all right. He never fell asleep first, always waiting until her breathing deepened and evened out again. 

“Mando.”

She pulled him from his wandering thoughts. Din looked back down at her. The braid on one side was barely holding together. 

“You’re not helpful today,” Syn chided him.

He’d told her his name and yet she still called him ‘Mando.’ It was driving him mad. 

“I like your hair down,” he tried to recover the situation. With the look she gave him, he’d failed. “Or, I can try?”

He regretted it the moment he said it. Syn’s look of amusement meant he was just roped into braiding her hair.

Din sighed heavily before dropping the side of her hair he was holding.

“Fine. Show me what I have to do.”

Learning to braid Syn’s hair wasn’t the worst way Din had spent an afternoon. He would never admit it to her but he enjoyed every twist of the hair. He had no idea if it was right but her hair was braided on each side, joining into a knot at the base of her neck. 

“What do you think?” Syn asked, her beautiful smile lighting up her face.

“Gorgeous,” Din couldn’t help himself. She did look beautiful. “I look forward to taking it out later.”

It slipped out without him meaning it. He could see a faint blush creeping up Syn’s neck. 

“Considering how many pins you had to use to keep it up, I’m counting on you to help me,” Syn’s voice was as steady as her hands when stitching a person back together. It was only her blush that had given her away. “Come on. I’ve been promised a lot of alcohol.”

“Something driving you to drink, Syn?” 

He’d found himself teasing her more and more. Usually, he never felt like he had the right thing to say. But time made things easier. 

“Someone,” Syn said playfully. “I wonder who that would be?”

The pointed look she gave him made him outright grin. Her wit had always amused him. Especially when it was directed at him. 

“Come on,” Syn continued, holding out her hand. “Let’s go.”

Din found himself taking her hand and following behind her. He told himself it was for the view of her ass. Deep down he couldn’t deny he was looking forward to this. He enjoyed this rough town and its people. Despite her grumbling, he knew they made Syn happy. When she was happy, then he was happy. 

Tonight wasn’t unlike the party held on the celebration of the battle of Endor. Din found himself with a drink put in his hand straight away. Before he could get a sip, a group of children surrounded him. 

“Syn said you could braid my hair,” one of the young girls came up to him with wide eyes.

Din looked over to Syn. He caught her eye as she smiled at him over her cup. He knew he’d been set up. 

“Sure.” 

Din liked children. They were the true innocents of the world. Untouched by corruption or the horrors that spanned the galaxy. Din found it ironic that the same hands that killed men without question or conscious now braided a little girl's hair. What’s more, these people in town knew exactly what he was. A bounty hunter. Someone who killed the highest price. Yet, they never blinked at trusting him with their young ones. 

Once the children got bored and found somewhere else to be, Din melted into the crowd. As always, he found himself at Syn’s side. She was eyeing off a cup of bright blue liquid.

“It’s good,” the other woman was saying. “It’s called spotchka.”

“It's blue,” Syn said suspiciously. 

“It’s good,” Din clarified. “I’ve had it.”

To prove his point, he took the offered glass. Tipping his helmet up enough, he drained it in one go. The drink burnt all the way down. He hadn’t eaten yet and the alcohol made his head swim for a few seconds more than usual. 

“That’s strong,” Din managed to keep his voice level. 

“Explain to me again why I should be drinking it then?” Syn said, pulling a face. “No, thank you.”

“Just one,” the other lady encouraged. “You’ll like it.”

Syn had enough to drink she caved into peer pressure easily. She took another filled glass and took a sip. Din chuckled as she began coughing. 

“That’s very strong,” Syn said with a strained voice. 

Din noticed she didn’t give the glass back. The townspeople had a habit of keeping her glass full and tonight was no exception. He followed her around and she got unsteadier as the night went on. She wasn’t the only one with a full glass that never seemed to be empty. He was taking it a lot slower than Syn was drinking.

She was starting to stagger when Din decided to try and coax her away.

“You’re going to regret this in the morning,” Din said in his matter of fact tone as he tried to take Syn’s glass. 

“This was your idea,” Syn said, her speak a little slurred. “You said, ‘Try it Syn, it’ll be good.'”

Syn’s voice deepened as she said the last part. She moved her glass out of his reach.

“I do not sound like that,” Din said with a small chuckle. “I didn’t say that either.”

“I’m going to finish this and then we’ll go home,” Syn said, taking a long drink from the glass. “This isn’t so bad when you get past the burn.”

Din waited patiently while she finished her drink and made a final round of saying goodbye to people. It was very late by the time he helped an unsteady Syn back home. She’d found another bottle of spotchka on the way home and was drinking straight from the bottle. 

“That was fun,” Syn said with a drunken giggle as she slid to the floor. “Are you ready to take out my hair?”

He shouldn’t have found it a turn on. Then again, the way Syn looked up at him from under her eyelashes didn’t exactly look innocent either. 

Din found himself sitting behind her, spreading his legs so she could sit between them. Taking his gloves off, he started pulling the pins out of her hair while she kept drinking from the bottle.

“I have a question.”

He’d only gotten three pins out of the back braid. 

“That’s new. Syn with a question.” 

Her sarcasm had been rubbing off on him. Especially with a few drinks in him. 

She craned her head back and grinned at him. The same grin that often made him bow to her wishes whether he wanted to or not. 

“What?” Din asked with a sigh. 

“How do you have sex?”

The question made him drop the pin he’d just taken out of her hair.

“What?” He forced his voice to stay steady. This is not a conversation he wanted to be having with her between his legs right now. 

Syn craned her head back again and that damn grin of hers was back. 

“I didn’t stutter,” she said, still grinning. 

“Well, when a Mummy Mando and a Daddy Mando,” Din started, barely able to contain his own amusement. Part of him had done it to stall on her question. Another couldn’t help but tease her.

Syn burst into laughter. Din loved the sound of her laughter. Especially when he was the one causing it.

“You’re such a smart ass,” Syn said through her laughter. “You know what I mean.”

“I really don’t,” Din said, still amused. “Be more specific.”

That was probably the wrong thing to ask a person like Syn. She thrived on specific details. 

“How does it work with the helmet?” Syn asked. “Do you take it off?”

“No,” Din had a feeling where this line of questioning was going. He went back to unpinning her hair. 

“Then how do you kiss someone?” 

“I don’t,” Din said simply. 

“So,” Syn craned her head around again, giving him a scrutinizing look. “You’ve never kissed a girl? Or guy?”

“Syn,” Din said with a sigh, fighting back his laughter. “Why are you asking?”

“Curiosity,” Syn replied instantly. “Come on. Call it medical knowledge I need to know.”

“That’s cheating and you know it,” Din couldn’t help the good natured grumble in his tone.

“It’s working isn’t it?”

That damn grin of hers was back. 

“Fine,” Din relinquished. “You have to share that bottle of spotchka if you want me to answer that.”

Syn handed it back to him. He tipped his helmet up enough to take a long drink. He was going to need it to handle her barrage of questions that he was coming.

“So Mr. Never Been Kissed,” Syn teased. “What’s the rule about the helmet?”

“I never said I haven’t been kissed,” Din said, taking another drink before handing the bottle back to Syn. “If you’d let me finish.”

Din found himself lost for words. Talking about his sex life with other women didn’t feel right. 

“I’m waiting,” Syn said in a sing-song voice. “Come on, Din. I’ll tell you all about my boring sex life if you tell me about yours.”

Din felt himself start at the casual use of his name. It had been driving him mad she had called him Mando over the last few weeks. He liked the way his name sounded on her lips.

“If I’m paying for sex, the helmet stays on.” Din found himself reaching for the bottle again. Syn handed it over without any complaint. “Same with a random person.”

“What about if it’s not a one night or paying for it?” 

There was no judgment in Syn’s tone at all. That he was extremely grateful for. His job rarely left him enough time to stay in one place long enough to do anything more than a one night stand. Sometimes, he couldn’t deal with the questions and flirting so straight up paying for it was easier. He'd done it less and less over the years. After seeing Syn with his dislocated shoulder he hadn't been with anyone since.

“Now that has only happened on very rare occasions,” Din took another drink and handed her back the bottle. “And when I trust the person.”

Din went back to pulling out Syn’s braids. There had only been one other woman. Back when he was younger and still making a name and reputation for himself. She’d gotten sick of his life and him before the year was out. 

“I ask them to wear a blindfold,” Din finished.

It was an idea that was passed around the male recruits in the fighting corps where he’d been raised. As young men, it was always a topic of conversation on ways to get around these things for sex. 

“Now that’s clever,” Syn said with a small laugh. “I wouldn’t have picked that. It certainly gets around the whole not showing your face.”

Din had a laugh with her but he was silent as he continued to unbraid Syn’s hair. He enjoyed running his fingers through the wild curls. Once it was down, he pushed it to one side to get it out of the way.

“I’ve never paid for sex.”

The silence didn’t last long. It rarely did with Syn. More and more he found himself being drawn into conversation with her. Din wasn’t the chattiest person but Syn managed to get him to talk. And laugh. She had a giggle as she took a drink from the bottle.

“Or had a one night stand,” Syn continued. “I’ve had a grand total of two relationships and both ended with them hating my job.”

“I can drink to that,” Din said lightly, holding his hand out for the bottle. “I have that problem too.”

“A doctor and the bounty hunter,” Syn said with another laugh, handing over the bottle. “What a pair we make.”

Din couldn’t help but laugh with her. They certainly were an odd pair. 

“Now there’s just one more mystery I need to be solved tonight,” Syn said as she scooted back further into him. 

Din couldn’t stop himself. He wrapped his arms around her and let her lean into him. He enjoyed their closeness. 

“What’s this mystery?” Din asked.

“What takes you so long in the bathroom in the morning?”

She was making him laugh tonight. He was normally in and out of the bathroom most mornings. This morning Syn had been impatient while he was trying to shave.

“I had to shave,” Din explained, still laughing. “It gets itchy under my helmet in the warmer weather.”

“Didn’t you tell me it wasn’t hot?” Syn turned around to look at him. That cheeky grin was back on her face. “Besides, I don’t believe you.”

Din took her hand and raised it. The alcohol was making him feel bold. There wasn’t much room in his helmet, but her hands were slim. He lifted her hand and slid it under the helmet to feel his cheeks.

“See?” 

The feel of her hand against his face sent a thrill through his entire body. It felt so forbidden, a touched he hadn’t known he longed for. Her hand ran along his jaw, feeling the smooth skin.

“Fine,” Syn sounded amused as she went to withdraw her hand.

Din caught it before she could fully pull away. She had the barest touch of that perfume against her wrist. He couldn’t help but inhale deeply. Like a fool, he placed a kiss on her wrist.

The sharp intake of breath nearly had him drop it right away and apologize. Instead, he found himself placing another kiss. And another.

“Din,” Syn’s voice was low and husky.

He should stop. He needed to stop. She’d said his name and it was like a shot of the strongest alcohol going straight to his head. 

“Yes?” He breathed against her skin. He could feel goosebumps on her skin. 

She turned around so that she was straddling him. Her fingers ran down his face. He loved her hands. They were strong and steady, yet so gentle when they needed to be.

“You’re making it very hard for me not to rip that helmet off and kiss you.”

Din had a fleeting thought that he would be happy to let her. To take off the helmet and never put it back on again. Instead, his mind scrambled for something else instead of that line of thought. He should make an excuse about they had too much to drink. That they shouldn’t be doing this. 

“We could do something that would let you do that,” he found himself saying.

Every ounce of self control he had was going into not taking off his helmet right now. He’d blame that on why he said what he did. 

“What do you have in mind?” Syn asked, putting her forehead against his. 

“Do you trust me?” Din ran his hands up her arm, enjoying the feel of her bare skin. 

“With my life.”

With those three whispered words he was gone. There was no coming back for him. All the feelings he’d been trying to bury since that day she’d thrown her arms around him came screaming forward. 

“Close your eyes. Don’t open them until I tell you.”

Din knew he was taking a risk by asking her to do this. But he also trusted her with his life. She’d never betray his trust. 

Her eyes had barely shut as he ripped the helmet off. It landed with a clatter on the floor. Taking her face between her hands, he bent forward and kissed her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter gave me a little bit of grief to write. I wasn't sure on having it from Din's point of view, but then got stuck and swtiched back. Hence the delay on it.
> 
> Thank you everyone for the amazing comments and amount of kudos! I haven't been able to reply to everyone but I cherish every single comment and kudos that I recieve.


	11. Chapter 11

Syn let out a small squeak of surprise as he kissed her. It wasn't soft or sweet. It was a kiss fuelled by passion and longing. She found herself eagerly returning it. His hands had gone under the skirt of the dress and were running up her legs. The contact felt like all of her nerve endings were alight. She hadn't been touched in so long.

His mouth left hers and found her neck. Syn arched into him, letting out a breathless moan as his teeth found a sensitive spot.

Suddenly they were moving. His grip was strong and Syn felt herself being lifted up. Her arms instantly went around his neck at the change.

Syn's head was spinning. She wasn't sure if it was from the alcohol or the fact Din couldn't keep his hands or mouth off her. It was unbelievably hot. She wasn't sure if she was going to wake up the next day and find it all to be a dream.

But when his fingers were on the laces on her dress, mouth still on her neck, Syn knew this wasn't a dream. Those same fingers had done up her dress earlier. His hands tugged at the laces and Syn felt the dress pool at her waist.

There wasn't a flicker of embarrassment as he set her down on the bed and Syn kicked the rest of the dress free. She hadn't bothered wearing anything under it. Part of it had been to tease him. He always surprised her with how observant it was. Something as simple as her not wearing any underwear was sure to be noticed.

He gently pushed her so she was laying on her back. His wandering hands were back on the outside of her thighs. Kissing down her body until he found her nipples and gently bit down.

Syn moaned and writhed underneath him at the simple touch. It encouraged him further, his tongue swirling over it. His other hand came up to cup her other breast. His calloused hands worked over the sensitive nipple.

Her fingers found his hair, gripping the messy locks. His mouth switched sides and his hand trailed down her stomach. Every stroke of his fingers had her wanting more. When he got to between her legs and ran his fingers along her slit.

Syn moaned again and arched into him, pushing herself up against his fingers, wanting more.

"Din," she couldn't stop the breathy sigh of his name.

He responded by pressing his fingers into her, his thumb working over her clit. Syn jumped like a jolt of electricity hit her.

It only encouraged him further. Syn barely registered his lips trailing down her body. It wasn't until his lips closed over her clit did Syn realise what he was doing.

Her hands gripped the blanket underneath her and she arched her body. It didn't stop him. His tongue swept over his clit and his fingers slid into her again.

Syn's mind couldn't put together a coherent thought as his talented tongue worked over her. Nothing had ever felt this good before. Normally there was a gradual build up to orgasm for Syn. Tonight it hit her out of nowhere.

Her entire body shook as wave after wave hit her. It felt like an eternity until she was able to think clearly again.

She could feel Din resting his chin on her stomach, every so often bending down to kiss her bare skin as Syn came back to reality.

"That's the best orgasm I've ever had in my life," Syn said breathlessly, blinding reaching down to touch him.

Din chuckled quietly as he moved back up. Syn found him kissing her again. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him as close as she could. He was like a drug to her and now she was addicted.

"I have too many clothes on," he said around the kisses. "Let me get undressed."

Syn felt boneless. She was in no condition to move or help. All she could do was lay there trying to catch her breath while various items thudded to the floor. When he was back on top of her, it was all bare skin and his wandering hands again.

"Tell me what you want?" Din's husky voice in his ear gave Syn goosebumps.

"You." Syn moved so she could capture his lips again.

He responded eagerly, his tongue sliding against hers. Syn could taste herself and the alcohol they'd been drinking on him.

He lifted one of her legs, hooking it around his waist. Syn could feel him hard and pressing against her thigh. It had been so long since she'd been in this position, she tensed.

Din instantly backed off. Syn kept her eyes squeezed shut despite how much she wanted to open them and reassure him.

"It's been a long time," Syn said breathlessly. "Sorry"

He shifted above her and suddenly Syn found herself on top of him.

"Take your time," he said, his voice rock steady as usual. "We don't have to do anything you don't want."

Syn found herself falling a little more for him at those comforting words.

"I want this." Syn bent down to kiss him again. "I want you."

"I'm all yours."

Syn shifted as they kissed. His hands were guiding as she hovered above him. Despite her flash of nerves, she really did want him. Her fingers dug into his chest as she slowly sank down onto him. It really had been a long time, Syn had nearly forgotten how good it felt. Underneath her, she could feel Din's breathing pick up the pace. His fingers tightening on her thighs.

It was an odd feeling of not being able to open her eyes. Everything other sense felt dialled up. Every touch was heightened. Every noise was amplified. It felt like they were the only two people who existed in the world.

Syn slowly sank down onto him. Her body stretched out in ways she'd forgotten about, leaving her gasping for breath. Normally, she'd feel self conscious right now. But life had changed her, as had the man underneath her.

Rocking her hips, Syn's felt like her entire body was on fire again. Bending down, she kissed him again. She couldn't get enough of the feel of his lips against hers. Bracing on one arm, she used the other to trace her fingers over his face. She wanted to know every inch of his face.

His hands came up to her hips, encoring her to move faster. Syn enjoyed hearing every muffled sound coming from him. The feel of his hands running over his hips and thighs. Picking up the pace, Syn felt another orgasm start to build.

"Syn."

His own breathless sigh of her name shouldn't have sounded as hot as Syn found it. She couldn't stop herself kissing him yet again.

His breathing was speeding up, just like her own. She couldn't stop herself. It felt incredible. The slow and steady climb to the ultimate bliss. She came undone again as his hips jerked upwards and his grip on her hips became bruising. Syn barely noticed it as she rode out her own high.

Collapsing against his chest, Syn felt like could barely breathe. Her limbs had lost all control and she felt weightless. She was only vaguely aware of his arms coming up to hug her.

Syn felt as if her brain had short circuited. None of her limbs wanted to work. Everything felt too sensitive and raw. But she also didn't want him to stop touching her.

They were suddenly moving again. Syn found herself still cuddled up against his chest. Her eyes opened briefly, only to see the lightly haired chest that she knew. Closing her eyes again, she sighed in pure contentment.

He said something so quietly Syn couldn't hear it. Even if she did, she doubted she'd have the brainpower to process it. The most content she'd been in a very long time, Syn felt herself drift off to sleep.

Syn woke with a hangover already making itself known. As she stretched, she felt the arms wrapped around her tighten momentarily.

The hangover was quickly forgotten as the events of last night came back to her. She was still naked, as was Din behind her.

"Good morning."

His voice was different without the helmet on. It felt so much more intimate.

"Mmm," Syn was content to close her eyes and shuffle back into him. "It is a very good morning."

They lay tangled together for a long time. Syn was content to fall back asleep in his arms. Here she was warm and safe.

“I’m going to have a shower,” Din said quietly, kissing her neck. “And make some breakfast. Stay in bed and I’ll bring it in.”

"Mind blowing sex and breakfast in bed," Syn said with a light laugh. "I'm the luckiest woman in the universe."

"Or I'm the luckiest man," Din said with another chuckle. "Close your eyes?"

Syn did as he was asked. She felt him turn her face around and he kissed her on the lips. Syn smiled against his lips and kissed him back. It was gentle and sweet. Not the passionate longing from last night. It still made her entire body tingle, right down to the tops of her toes.

He got up a few seconds later, leaving Syn alone. As she heard the door close, she opened her eyes and stretched out. She felt like a new woman. She hadn't lied when she said it had been the best sex of her life. Sex before had been mostly enjoyable. But Din had been the first one who had cared about her enjoyment before his own. The fact he had told her that they didn't have to do anything when she got nervous.

Syn sighed happily and closed her eyes again. She'd have to get up soon but for now, she was happy to doze off for a little while longer.

When she opened her eyes again, she could smell something cooking. Syn got up and had a quick shower. Getting dressed, she stepped out into the main room.

Din was standing over the stove in his helmet and pants. Syn took a moment to appreciate the sight in front of her. He had the muscled body of a warrior. But he was so gentle. Syn felt like her ovaries had nearly exploded from the cute sight from last night when he was braiding one of the children's hair. When he came out in town with her, he had never ending patience with the children of the town. It was such a contrast from the warrior she knew he could be. 

"What are you doing?"

His voice jolted her from her thoughts. He was looking back at her over his shoulder.

"Enjoying the view," Syn said with a growing smile. "I do miss your cooking when you're not here. Especially when you're shirtless"

"I feel objectified," Din's tone was teasing as he turned back to what he was doing.

Syn laughed as she headed for her small safe in the kitchen. While in the shower she had a fleeting thought. It had made itself known again while she was thinking of how good he was with children. Din was standing in front of the cabinet where it was hidden. She poked her leg, making him move over.

Getting the contraceptive shot out of the safe, Syn stood back up. As she did, she noticed him looking at her.

"Contraceptive shot," Syn explained, holding it out for him to see. "I'm not keen on having a whole squad of little Din's."

Syn stopped herself as she realised she'd slipped up with his name. She'd been purposely not saying it. She had no idea if he wanted her to use it or not. It felt like an awkward topic to bring up.

"Squad?" his teasing tone was still there. "I was hoping for a platoon."

He made her laugh hard enough she had to gran onto the bench to steady herself.

"No, thank you," Syn said around her laughter. "Though you are very good with children. It's very endearing."

"I like children." Din's shoulders lifted in a shrug. "I also like hearing you say my name."

The way he said it sent another flush of warmth through Syn's body. He sounded genuinely happy.

"I didn't know if you'd want me to use it or not," Syn said. She felt ridiculous for saying it out loud now. Busying herself, she lifted her shirt up to give herself the shot.

"Maybe not in public," Din said, turning around to face her. "But in private? Always."

The way he said it gave Syn goosebumps. It was full of promise and things to come. She would have happily skipped breakfast and drag him back to the bedroom. Instead, he quickly turned back to the stove and picked the pan up, fanning over it.

"Did you burn breakfast?" Syn asked, quickly giving herself the shot before they got distracted.

"Nearly," Din said, cringing as he continued to fan his hand over the pan. "You're very distracting."

"Am I?" Syn still had her hand on the hem of her shirt. She couldn't help herself. She slowly started to lift it up again. She had nothing on underneath it. Drawing it up slowly, it came over her head and Syn casually dropped it next to her.

He closed the gap between them in two long strides. Picking her up, Syn started to laugh as they headed back to the bedroom.

Breakfast was cold by the time they emerged again. A pattern that became normal for the next two months. Syn struggled to get out of the door some mornings because he'd pull her back in just as she was leaving. Or if he didn't, when Syn got home she wasn't able to keep her hands off him as soon as she got in.

The last week had been different. He was distracted and fidgety. When Syn was at work, she knew he went out of town and was using his blaster. Today Syn had a quiet day and had been back within the hour. It had gone cold again, but today was unseasonably warm. Syn and Din were out walking in the forest outside of town.

Din had bent down to pick up a flower, much to Syn's amusement. He handed it to her and Syn tucked it into the top of his chest armour.

"You're being quieter than usual today," Syn decided to broach the topic as she adjusted the small white flower in the armour.

Din sighed. Syn had an inkling of what was going on. He'd told her once when they ere whispering in the dark after having sex that he'd never been in a place this long. Not since he was a child. She had a feeling that he was getting restless.

"I've been thinking," he said quietly.

"Of leaving?" Syn supplied for him.

Syn knew his gaze has turned on her. She'd gotten to know every tilt of that head almost as well you would a person's facial expressions.

"I know you're getting restless," Syn continued with no judgement in her voice. "I'm not asking you to stay if you want to go."

"I want to stay."

Then there was another heavy sigh. Syn waiting patiently for him to get his thoughts together. It was a conversation she'd been dreading. She knew their time together was limited. There was no keeping him in one place. She knew this had to end eventually.

"I don't want to leave you," Din switched his line of thought, much to Syn's surprise. "I'm finding myself at loose ends though."

Syn smiled and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him in for a hug. He pulled her in tightly, sighing again. Syn closed her eyes and enjoyed the firm embrace.

"I don't want you to leave either, but you've run out of things to fix in my house," Syn said lightly. "I know you aren't the type to sit back idly."

There was a small huff of amusement from under his helmet.

"You could come with me?" Din said quietly after a moment of silence.

Syn felt wildly conflicted at what he was asking. Part of her would love to pack up and leave the snowy planet behind. But, she also had been here for too long to leave these people alone. When she'd first landed in Osoria, taking on the role of the local doctor was extremely begrudging. She only did it because she had no money and no way off the planet. The plan had always been to save enough money to get away. But she soon learnt that most people didn't have a lot of money. She was mostly paid by people providing her food and keeping a roof over her head. Paid work, even as a doctor was scarce to come by.

But then, she'd begun to enjoy the rough town. Despite it all, she'd grown very fond of the people and felt a sense of duty to keep them safe.

"If people would stop breeding like womp rats, I might just agree," Syn said with a sad smile. "You know I can't."

"I know." His quiet reply broke Syn's heart a little. "It still doesn't hurt to ask."

They hadn't spoken of anything of the future. Syn didn't want to push whatever it was they had blossomed between them. It was nothing she had ever had before. For once in her life, she didn't fight for something that most other people would have found proper. Whatever they were, she was happy to continue as it was.

"Then you go and shoot some bad guys," Syn kept her voice level. "And try not to get stabbed, shot or impaled in the process. Come back to me when you can."

Though her tone was light, her heartfelt anything but. They'd slipped into an easy routine. One Syn enjoyed immensely. Deep down she knew it wouldn't last. He'd have to go back to his work eventually.

"I suppose I do owe you another book or two for you saving my life again," Din said, plucking the flower out of his chest armour. This time he tucked it into Syn's hair. "Perhaps three."

"Perhaps a new bookcase as well." Syn couldn't help but laugh. She adjusted the flower in her hair so it wouldn't fall out. "I don't think I could fit three more books in it."

Din's laugh sounded half hearted. Syn held onto him a little tighter.

"I'll be here when you're ready to come back," Syn said to reassure both of them.

"I don't know when it would be," Din said tiredly. "I can't promise anything."

"And I'll never ask you to make a promise like that," Syn countered. "I'd prefer you in one piece when do you come back, but I know the odds for that aren't very favourable."

There was a long pause. Syn closed her eyes and enjoyed the feeling of being in his arms. It was one of her favourite things. She always woke up with him wrapped around her. Any chance she could get, she would get as close to him as she could.

"Three bounties and I'll be back."

"You can do ten and I still wouldn't mind." Syn felt her heart lighten at his promise. "Come back when you can."

"Always."

That one word always made Syn smile. She knew things would be right when he said it.

When he left the next day, Syn clung to that one word. Her brave face failed once the Razor Crest was out of sight. Watching him leave was harder than she anticipated. Walking back to town, she got stopped for a broken bone. Then another person was having chest pains. And another small injury. Then another. It was closer to dawn than it was evening when Syn finally collapsed into bed.

Before Syn knew it, a week had passed and she had been as busy as ever. She dragged herself through the front door to find a roaring fire. A hot cup of tea was still steaming on the table.

Not trusting her exhausted eyes, Syn cautiously went into the bedroom. It was also empty. Before she could turn around, a pair of hands covered her eyes.

"I told you three," Din's familiar husky voice whispered in her ear.

Syn couldn't stop herself. She shrieked in surprise before turning around and jumping into his arms. Her eyes barely closed before his helmet was off and they were kissing. Din easily picked her up and carried her into the bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't written any smut for a fair while so it took me a bit to get through this.


	12. Chapter 12

Their life continued much the same way over the next few months. When winter hit Osoria, Din stayed on for longer periods. Syn had a feeling the snowstorms were an excuse. But she never complained. It was rare he stayed away longer than a week at a time. Then he’d stay at least another three to make up for it. 

Syn was the most content she ever had been. Even though it was lonely when he was away, he always came back. Something she looked forward to. 

During one bad blizzard, Syn was bunkered down with a new family in town. The human mother was nine months pregnant and in active labour, Syn had taken one look at the situation and it took every ounce of her considerable experience not to panic.

The baby was breech. Syn was not at all equipped for an emergency caesarean delivery. As she did an examination, it proved to be even worse than she expected. She was in advanced labour and Syn could feel one foot. 

“Coralil,” Syn fought to keep her voice level. “Your baby hasn’t turned.”

“I know,” came the tearful reply. “It feels wrong.”

The woman screamed as another contraction hit her. Syn hated this part of labour. It was always noisy and messy. It was even worse when things went wrong. The local midwife had passed away in Syn’s first year of living there. Midwifery was not Syn’s forte or favourite thing.

“Am I going to die?” Coralil asked, breathless and hoarse.

The lie that everything would be fine caught in Syn’s throat. 

“You save my baby,” Coralil continued tearfully, reaching out for Syn. “Please Syn. Don’t let my baby die. I don’t care about myself. He’s the most important thing.”

“I’ll do everything I can to save both of you,” Syn forced out as she took the other woman hand. She swallowed back the nausea that was threatening. “I need to talk to your husband. I’ll be back in a minute, okay?”

Din had come with Syn, using his flamethrower in his gauntlet to clear the path of snow. She’d tried to dissuade him from coming. He wouldn’t take no for an answer despite the late hour. Stepping out into the main room, she found Din and the husband, Antlev, who was pacing the room. He stopped dead when he saw Syn’s face. 

For some reason, Syn didn’t like to man. She hadn’t met him before tonight but there was a coldness in his gaze that made her shiver.

As much as Syn tried to hide it, the seriousness of the situation was clear on her face.

“Your wife needs you,” Syn’s voice was hoarse. 

Antlev nearly knocked Syn over in his haste to get into the other room. As he left, Din came over to Syn.

“How bad is it?” Din asked quietly. 

“Bad.” Syn licked her dry lips. “The baby is breech and she’s in advanced labour. I can either attempt a c-section or try and let her deliver naturally. Either way is a huge risk to both of them.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Keep the fire going.” Syn rubbed her face tiredly. “Be there in case I need another set of hands. I may need you to run back to our place for more supplies if things go badly.”

Syn had her trusty satchel with her that was full to the brim. If she was going to do an emergency c-section, she’d probably burn through the supplies very quickly.

A scream that reached inhuman levels made Syn bolt back into the room. What greeted her was more blood than she knew there should be. 

“Move.” Syn pushed the husband out of the way.

Squatting between her legs, Syn knew things went from bad to worse in the minute she’d stepped out. Mentally cursing herself for the lapse in judgement, Syn reached for her bag.

“Coralil, I’m going to give you a sedative,” Syn said rapidly but keeping a calm tone. “You’re going to wake up in about an hour and you’ll hold your baby. Okay?”

Out of the corner of her eye, Syn saw Din come into the room. She didn’t have time to warn him for what was about to come. She just hoped his stomach was as strong as the other times he’d joined her when she had to treat patients.

Coralil was barely conscious. She was losing blood rapidly and Syn knew there was no time to lose. Practised hands eased the sedative in and taking up her trusty scalpel, Syn got to work.

C-sections were usually done by medical droids. It was long forgotten training that Syn had to dredge up from her memory. She couldn’t recall ever seeing one done by a human. Even in emergency situations. Then again, she was usually putting people back together. Not cutting them apart. Her normally steady hands felt shaky as she made the first incision. 

There was so much blood. Though her training lacked, Syn had seen this happen before. She’d lost the mother and baby before she could do anything about it. As much as she hated it, Syn knew right now she would only be able to save one of them. She had nothing for a blood transfusion. She could see Coralil going paler every passing second. Her laboured breathing was growing worse. The only consolation Syn had for the woman was that she wouldn’t feel a thing. 

“Din, grab a towel,” Syn ordered as she cut through the layers of tissue and fat. “And gloves, I’ll need a second set of hands in about two minutes.”

Syn focused on her job at hand. She felt Din come to stand beside her just as she needed him.

“Hold,” she instructed him as she cut through the last layer. Her hands holding the incision apart were replaced by his without hesitation. 

Reaching in, Syn could feel the baby’s lower half. It was so slippery she nearly dropped the infant. Gripping tighter, Syn lifted the rear out and with some firm wriggling, the head was out.

“Towel,” Syn ordered as she grasped the still lifeless infant. “You’re going to have to clean his mouth and nose out.”

Din produced a towel and Syn all but thrust the infant into his arms. He never hesitated and began wiping out the baby’s mouth as Syn turned back to what she as doing.

Going back into the large incision, Syn found the source of bleeding right away. The uterus has been ruptured and was bleeding heavily. Or was. It took Syn a moment to realise the blood had pooled. A quick glance up saw the Coralil wasn’t breathing anymore. Her body had gone completely slack.

In the next moment, the baby started crying.

Syn looked up to see Din cradling the infant in his arms, bouncing him gently. 

“It’s a girl,” Din said quietly.

Syn felt her throat close up as the grief threatened to overwhelm her. Nothing would have saved her except an advanced treatment facility. The fact the baby was alive was a miracle.

“What do you mean it’s a girl?”

Syn had nearly forgotten about the husband in the room. She’d been so focused on the woman, she’d never given him a second thought. Before Syn could say anything, she felt a hand wrap around her throat and she was shoved back into the wall. 

The man was strong. Syn felt every puff of air in her body left in shock as he shoved her against the wall. 

“She promised me a son,” Antlev growled out. His expression furious as his stare bored into Syn.

“Drop her.”

Syn had enough oxygen to look over Antlev’s shoulder. Din had the baby in one hand and blaster drawn in the other one. Since he was attacked last time he never left home unless he was fully armed and armoured. Something she was extremely grateful for now. The pressure increased on her throat and Syn saw stars.

“If you harm her, there won’t be a galaxy you can hide in,” Din’s tone is pure ice. “Put her down.”

The grip released on her throat nearly as quickly as it had come. Syn fell to her knees sucking in the much needed air. It had happened so quickly there’d been no time to panic. Or even think. 

“Get rid of it.”

Syn barely heard Antlev’s hissed words through her pounding head. A door slammed and Din was beside her. Everything felt like it was on fast forward for Syn. 

“Syn.”

The worry in his voice was clear. Syn felt dizzy as she climbed to her feet with his help. Everything started to come back into a sharp focus. Syn could feel her aching back from being crouched over. Her throat felt bruised from where Antlev had grabbed her.

“I’m fine,” Syn’s voice came out raspy. She swallowed heavily trying to get some moisture back into her mouth and throat.

Using Din for balance, Syn finally felt the weight of the situation really crash into her. The baby was still swaddled in the towel from where Syn had unceremoniously pushed her into Din’s arms. He was cradling her close to his chest. A sight that would melt even the coldest of hearts. There was something about a warrior holding a small child as if they were made of glass. Despite herself, Syn felt something tug at her heart. 

A tug she’d felt more and more over the last few months. It didn’t just come from those moments where he was being adorable with the herd of children around town that appeared at his side every time he stepped out of the house. It was beginning to happen in those quiet moments in the dark where there was nothing but the sound of their heavy breathing and being so close it like they were one person. The moments of laughter when he was cooking, or still trying to help with her blaster trainer. Moments when Syn’s feet were stretched out over his lap while she read a book and he tinkered with whatever was occupying his hands that evening. 

A mewling sound followed by a cry broke Syn from her thoughts. The newborn was a whole new problem. One Syn wasn’t trained or equipped for. 

“What do we do with her?” Din’s voice was tinged with the same panic as Syn was starting to feel. 

“She’s going to need someone to nurse her,” Syn said, holding out her arms. “We’re going to need some more blankets.”

Din carefully placed the baby girl in Syn’s arms. It was the first time she got a good look at the infant. Soft brown hair covered the little girl’s head. Her eyes opened for a brief second, showing off deep blue eyes. Din had done a good job of cleaning her up. All Syn had to do was tie off the umbilical cord. But for a few seconds, Syn couldn’t help but stop to marvel at the brand new life in her arms.

Every birth she had attended, she’d given the baby straight to the mother for bonding and feeding. Syn would have cuddles days later and appreciate the new life in her arms. But she’d never held a baby so new in her arms for so long.

Though it wasn’t without tragedy. After gazing at the newborn, Syn felt her eyes go back to the lifeless body of her mother. Syn felt the grief hit her so hard she nearly choked on it. The woman had been young and healthy as far as Syn could tell. Everything had gone wrong so quickly. Syn didn’t feel like she’d had a moment to breathe from that horrible moment when she had to make a decision to save one of them. 

“Who do you want to go?” Din asked, handing Syn another blanket.

It broke her out of darks thought threatening to form. Gratefully taking the blanket, she added the extra layer to the newborn. 

“Imanjil would be my first pick.” Syn instantly thought of the woman who’d become her friend over the years. “She has plenty of children. She knows more than me.”

“What about the mother?” Din asked quietly.

Syn looked over at the body again. Coralil was too young to be nothing more than a lifeless body in a tiny room. For a moment, Syn couldn’t breathe from the guilt threatening to overwhelm her. The what ifs and things Syn might have done differently always plagued her after losing a patient. Now was no different. 

“I’ll have to get someone to bury her if her husband doesn’t come back,” Syn fought to keep her voice level. “I’m hoping he doesn’t.”

It was one good thing about Osoria. The town was rough enough that people were used to disposing of dead bodies. When Din had killed her three attackers, their bodies had disappeared without a word needing to be said. Something Syn had been eternally grateful for. 

She looked over at Din. He gave her a small nod and nothing else was said. He helped Syn into her heavy coat and the three of them stepped out into the snowy night. 

Syn huddled as close as she could to Din as they waded through the snowdrift. Syn’s kept the newborn under her coat, huddled to her body as close as she could. Imanjil and her family lived across town. Their living accommodation was at the back of the shop. It was closer to the morning than it was evening, meaning there was a light on as Syn made her way up the back stairs. The door opened before Syn’s feet could touch the top one.

“Mando?”

The curious tone of the green Twi’lek made Syn lookup. She stepped around Din’s form and Imanjil’s expression went from curious to shock. She stepped aside and let them into the warm house. 

“Was it the newcomer girl?” Imanjil asked.

It was a small town. Syn wasn’t surprised she knew. Everyone knew everyone’s business. Newcomers were always a source of fresh gossip.

“Yes,” Syn said simply, holding out the bundled baby. “She died in childbirth. The father disappeared when he found out it was a girl.”

“Let’s get her fed,” Imanjil was all business as she took the baby. “You look ready to fall over Syn. Sit down.”

Syn knew better than to argue. She shed her heavy coat and collapsed into the nearest chair. 

“I’m going to look for the husband,” Din said firmly. “Stay here until I get back.”

Syn wasn’t going to argue with Din either. Especially when he used that tone. Not that she would want to either. Being shoved up against a wall and held by her throat was going to dredge up nightmares for weeks. She nodded without complaint.

Din took her satchel from around his shoulder and handed it to her. As their hands met, he brushed his thumb over the top of her hand. The simple gesture made Syn smile. Without another word he turned and left.

“For a second, I was going to ask how you managed to hide a pregnancy,” Imanjil teased Syn lightly as she eased down in a chair across from her. 

“Very funny.” Syn pulled a face at her friend. “Ours would have so much more hair.”

Syn had found out she wasn’t the only one with unruly hair. Din cut his own hair, usually before he left before working. By the time he came back and was ready to go back to work, it was long again. Syn enjoyed pulling on it while he was making her come undone with his tongue. 

“The fact you’ve given that thought how you children would look like is giving me enough ammunition to tease you for the next decade,” Imanjil said, chuckling quietly as she arranged the infant on her breast with the ease of a mother of nine could manage. “Though I’m sure you’re glad I had another one two months ago.”

Syn had been extremely exasperated when Imanjil had announced yet another pregnancy. Right now she was grateful for it. There were plenty of people in town she could have asked. But Imanjil was a friend and the only person Syn felt truly comfortable knocking on her door just before dawn with a newborn in her arms. 

“She’s hungry, that’s a good start,” Imanjil said happily before Syn could reply. “What are you going to do with her?”

That was the million credit question. Syn had no idea. Most families in town struggled to feed their own. Asking them to add a stranger to the family would be out of the question. 

“I don’t know.” Syn sat back wearily. “It’s not like I can do what I need to with a baby strapped to me.”

“You would be surprised what you can do with an infant strapped to you,” Imanjil said dryly. “Mando is here most of the time. I’m sure you could work something out.”

“The problem would be when he wasn’t here,” Syn countered. 

The tugging at her heart grew a little more persistent as an errant thought crossed her mind. Din liked children. He’d made that very clear while he was around. His teasing about wanting a whole platoon of little Din’s wasn’t something Syn had forgotten. Every so often Syn did find herself daydreaming about a future where Din stayed. Sometimes the thought of children strayed into that daydream as well. Imanjil’s teasing of Syn thinking of what their children would look like struck close to home. Syn wanted to smack herself for even entertaining those thoughts. 

“It might be the reason he decides to stay,” Imanjil said softly. “For good.”

It felt like a forbidden thought. Syn would never ask Din to stay permanently. He always came back to her and that was enough. But it didn’t stop the errant flash of actually wanting it. 

“He’d be bored in a month,” Syn said, trying to get the resigned sigh from escaping. “What would he do?”

“Hunt Wampa’s like everyone else?” Imanjil suggested.

Syn snorted in disgust. The local creatures were the only trade in Osoria. People hunted them for the rich fur and delicate meat. It was a dangerous sport. More often than not Wampa’s hunted people. It’s what kept Syn in a job a lot of the time.

“Or protect the town from those who do come to hunt Wampa’s and cause trouble?”

“He does that already,” Syn said closing her eyes. “And he’s still bored in a month.”

Syn didn’t begrudge him for it either. If she wasn’t so busy keeping people alive she would have gone mad with boredom in the first year too. 

Imanjil dropped the subject. Syn felt sleep tug at the edges of her eyes as she relaxed back in the chair. It didn’t last long. The sound of Imanjil’s youngest crying snapped Syn out of her dozing.

“Trade.”

Imanjil was already on her feet and handing the baby to Syn before she could protest. The newborn in her arms made some noise before settling again. Syn shifted her to get more comfortable and cradled her close. The blanket she was wrapped in moved over her face and Syn carefully moved it away from her nose. The baby screwed her face up in protest but didn’t make any other sound. 

Imanjil came back in a few minutes with her own baby. The boy was squirming in her arms, squawking in protest. Trailing behind her was one of the younger girls. Her eyes widened when she saw Syn.

“Did Mando and Syn have a baby?” 

“No.” Syn and Imanjil said at the same time. Though Imanjil was more amused than Syn. 

The younger girl stuck her lip out in a pout. She came over closer, peering down at the baby in Syn’s arms. 

“She’s so pink,” the young Twi’lek said with a wrinkled nose. 

Without warning, she scrambled up into Syn’s lap. Syn was used to it by now. All of Imanjil’s children treated her like a personal chair. The door opened and Syn found herself abandoned as quickly as she had climbed up.

Din was standing at the door. He scooped up the other girl without missing a beat as he walked in, kicking the door closed behind him. Condensation dripped off his helmet and his armour was steaming in the warm room. He stomped the snow off his boots before walking further into the room.

Out of habit, Syn quickly roamed her eyes over him checking for a hint of injury. He was walking fine. Nothing was bleeding and he was walking normally. She felt herself relax. 

“Did you find anything?” Syn asked.

A simple nod was all Syn needed. There was another body someone would have to bury. Syn felt like she should have been horrified at the ease of it. Taking another person’s life and then walking back in without a care in the world. But her experiences in Osoria had quickly made her realise not all life was cherished like she was raised to believe. There were plenty of people out there who deserved to die. A man who attacked a doctor for helping his life and telling them to get rid of his newborn child wasn’t a person Syn would lose sleep over knowing he was dead. 

“What were you looking for?”

The innocent question of a child made Syn panic for a moment. Fortunately, Imanjil stepped up before she or Din had to find a suitable lie for a four year old. 

“Talina, go find your father and get him to bring something for breakfast out,” Imanjil ordered. “Stop bothering Mando.”

“She’s fine,” Din said, shifting the girl onto his hip. “We’ll go find Dad together?”

The little girl giggled as she nodded eagerly. He spared a glance that was longer than usual at Syn before heading off. Syn found herself smiling like a lovesick fool as the pair of them disappeared into the house. 

Imanjil’s husband, Toron, brought the requested breakfast out. He didn’t stay long, only stopping to glance at the baby in Syn’s arms. Din came back with another child hanging off him, one of the boys this time, talking his ear off while they all ate breakfast. Halfway through eating, the baby Syn had begun to fuss again and Imanjil swapped infants. 

“We’re going to have to find the women in town who are still feeding because I can’t keep up enough for two,” Imanjil said as she started nursing again. “Once I’ve fed her, do you want to go get some sleep? I’ll work out something with the other mothers. She should sleep for a few hours now.”

Syn felt like she should be arguing. Her tired brain couldn’t dredge up long forgotten details of feeding schedules and what newborns should be doing. Instead, she nodded and thanked the other woman. 

It was still snowing when Din and Syn left. Syn found herself leaning heavily against him as they walked home. She wanted nothing more than to fall into bed and sleep for a month. It had been a long and horrible night. Din opened the door, letting Syn and the baby come through first.

“Go have a shower,” Din said gently, holding out his hands. “I’ll find somewhere to put her down.”

Syn handed the quiet baby over. She fussed for a second as she changed hands, but settled with a gentle bounce from Din. Syn had no argument left in her as she went straight for the shower. She’d washed her hands earlier but had done nothing about the blood soaked clothes. 

The quiet solace of the shower made Syn realise how bone deep her exhaustion was. Even before the pregnant woman had been a problem, it had been a long day. Syn bent forward, her forehead resting on the wall as she closed her eyes. The hot water felt amazing against her aching body.

“Syn?” Din’s quiet voice interrupted her thoughts. “Are you awake?”

“Barely.” 

Syn heard the now familiar sound of his armour hitting the floor. Despite her exhaustion, a smile curved up her lips. She kept her eyes closed as he moved into the shower with her. The strong arms she’d grown to love wrapped around her, pulling her in close. 

He didn’t say anything. He rarely did when Syn had a bad day on the job. Syn appreciated the comfort in his actions instead of words. Her brain felt like mush right now. She doubted she could even manage to string together a coherent sentence right now. He simply held onto her tightly as the warm water beat down.

They both stood under the spray until it turned cold. Din got out first, handing her a towel as he left. Syn enjoyed having a peek as he left the bathroom. Her eyes catching a glimpse of the muscular body and messy dark hair. Drying herself off, Syn found a change of clothes and stepped back out into the main room while drying her hair. It was cold enough they were sleeping in the main room in front of the fireplace. 

As Syn walked out, she found Din in front of her communicator with the baby against his bare chest. Another sight she enjoyed, him in nothing but the bottom half of his flight suit. 

“We have another problem,” Din sounded as tired as Syn felt. 

Syn paused in drying her hair as she came to stand in front of the small device. She’d had the occasional message come through from the Armourer and Din. The former would let her know of possible Mandalorian’s passing her way that might require assistance. Syn hadn’t seen one yet but she appreciated the heads up. Din had begun to leave her messages if he was going to be longer than expected. Sometimes just to wish her goodnight. It made her day when she got those rare messages.

Playing back the message, Syn found it was the Armourer.

“Syn. I wouldn’t ask if I had anyone else but one of our own is seriously injured. Shot in the back with a slug thrower. We have him suspended in carbonite…”

Syn didn’t need to hear the rest of the message. Pulling her hair up, she turned to start packing a bag. 

“What are we going to do with her?” Din asked, falling into step behind Syn. 

Syn hesitated for a moment. She’d nearly forgotten about the baby. She was so quiet and settled. Most newborns Syn knew cried every five minutes.

“I have a suggestion,” Din continued at Syn’s hesitation. 

“Please.”

“She comes with us,” Din said calmly. “The tribe can give her a life. A Foundling. The tribe will protect her until she’s of an age to make her own choice.”

Syn’s mind went back to her last visit to Nevarro and the children roaming the underground tunnel. The Armourer had told her Din had once been a Foundling. He’d certainly made a life for himself. From the brief time she'd spent with them, Syn knew the Mandalorian's looked after their own. 

“That’s better than anything else I can think of,” Syn agreed with a smile. 

Inwardly, Syn was relieved his suggestion wasn’t that they kept her. Still, it was a long journey to Nevarro. 

“I’ll go talk to Imanjil about how we can feed her along the way,” Din said, cradling the girl close.

“I’ll pack what I need and meet you at the Razor Crest,” Syn said, reaching her hands out for the baby. 

“I’ll take her for another feed before we go,” Din said, relinquishing his hold on her. “If you could hold her while I get dressed.” 

Just like that, it was settled. Syn got a second wind of energy as they both got organised. Din got dressed and took the baby. Syn packed some supplies and headed for the Razor Crest. She had the old ship started up by the time Din and the baby got back. His arms were full of the baby and other supplies. 

They swapped again as Din got into the pilot seat and handed Syn back the baby. The baby barely stirred under as the juggling. Syn found herself looking at the bundle, who had now acquired clothes and proper baby blankets. The baby had a healthy colour. All fingers and toes were accounted for. Her breathing was normal, as was her heart rate. Syn could scarcely believe a healthy baby came from earlier circumstances. Tiny fingers curled out the one finger Syn was using to examine her. 

Syn found herself smiling down at the precious bundle. It took a lot to stir maternal feelings up for Syn. Right now she felt like her ovaries were about to hold her hostage. Out of the corner of her eye, she found Din looking at her.

“What?” Syn managed to tear her gaze away from the baby and meet his look.

“It suits you,” Din said with a small chuckle. 

“You’re still not getting a platoon,” Syn said, smiling over at him. Right now was one of those moments where she wished she could see his face. He sounded happy. Syn wished she could see the happiness on his face instead of in his voice. 

“I’m happy to negotiate for a squad instead,” Din said with another chuckle, turning back to the controls.

“Don’t say that. I’m currently trying to talk my ovaries down. They’re ready to take me hostage and let you,” Syn joked, shifting the blanket around the baby girl. 

“We both fit in the sleeping pod,” Din’s tone was teasing. “Quite comfortably with you on top.”

Syn reached over and lazily kicked him. She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks at his teasing. He was not helping in the slightest. 

“If you want to get some sleep, I promise I won’t disturb you,” Din turned serious as his attention turned to getting ready to jump to hyperspace. “You’ve had a long night.”

“We’ve both had a long night,” Syn countered. “Come to bed with me?”

Even though the answer was only a nod, there was no hesitation in it. Syn knew sleep wouldn't come easily if she was alone. While she wasn't thinking of the circumstances behind the girl in her arms right now, they'd plague her dreams. 

"I'll be right down."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to split this one up for two reasons.
> 
> One, I'm procrastination writing because I have an assignment due for Uni tomorrow. If I stop writing now, it can be my reward for milestones along the way of the assingment.
> 
> Two, I'm trying to keep this one shorter chapter than I usually do. This would have easily been a 12k monster by the time I was done.
> 
> Thank you all for the amazing feedback and kudos! It has really exceeded my expectations. I love every single review and feedback on it. Posting in a new fandom after sticking in one for so long is a little daunting. But I'm glad everyone is enjoying Syn and DIn as much as I enjoy writing them.


	13. Chapter 13

Din let Syn sleep for the entire journey. She had fallen asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. Unfortunately, the baby had also stirred that exact moment. Din had ended up sitting on the edge of the sleeping pod, alternating between feeding the baby and holding her while she slept. He dozed between feeding. The trip to Nevarro slipped by quickly. While the baby slept, he sent a quick message back to his tribe letting them know they were on the way, also mentioning the baby. He didn’t need people assuming things. Before he knew it, he was shaking Syn awake.

As she stirred he felt extremely guilty. The bruises on her throat stood out clearly. Her voice was scratchy and hoarse, no matter how much she tried to clear her throat without him noticing. She looked dead on her feet. He’d almost wished he hadn’t noticed the communicator blinking.

Their next problem was it was daytime in Nevarro. The port was busy. The Razor Crest, while invaluable for keeping under the radar, was also extremely noticeable. Every guild member knew the ship. As did all of the port staff and half the townspeople.

“I’m just going to walk off,” Syn argued with him as she arranged the baby in a sling on her chest. Imanjil had given it along with as many supplies as Din could carry. “No one is going to care.”

“Everyone is going to care,” Din stressed. “You’re walking off my very noticeable ship with a baby strapped to your chest.”

“Then I’ll say you gave me a lift,” Syn said nonchalantly. “I’m a new mother looking to settle in Nevarro. I can lie that my husband is already here.”

“I’m a bounty hunter, not a transport service,” Din knew he was being overcautious. But he couldn’t help it. Those bruises on Syn’s neck were a stark reminder of how quickly things could go wrong. 

“Not today,” Syn said, pointing at the empty chamber where his bounties usually were in carbonite. 

It was empty. The last time he’d come back he hadn’t taken any further work. Osoria’s climate was too volatile at the time of the year. It was a good excuse to stay with Syn without work hanging over his head. 

“Syn…” he started with a sigh.

“Din,” she cut him off. “I have someone who I need to put back together. Please stop arguing with me. I have to do something to get off the ship. I can’t stay until nightfall.”

He hated that she was right. 

“I’ll be ten minutes behind you,” Din said firmly.

“Then I’ll see you in ten,” Syn said, turning around and heading down the ramp. 

As much as he enjoyed watching Syn walk away in a pair of pants that clung to her figure, today it was making him nervous. While Nevarro wasn’t as rough as Osoria, there were still too many things that could go wrong. Even her dagger and blaster tucked into her belt did nothing to ease his worry. 

He heard someone greet Syn at the bottom of the ramp. It took all of his self control not to storm down there and make sure no one bothered her. 

“Oh, The Mandalorian was kind enough to provide transport from Akiva,” Syn’s friendly voice reached back up the ship. “My husband came here before us to get settled. He’s meeting me in town.”

Din had to give Syn credit for being able to easily carry to lie. She sounded genuine even to him. He heard a murmur of agreement before whoever it was let her pass.

Going back into the cockpit, he was able to watch Syn walk into town. Her confident stride hid any nerves she may have been feeling. He kept an eye on her until she was no longer visible from the angle the ship was parked at. 

He knew he should head to the cantina and see Greef for work. It was his usual routine. Deviating from it would cause suspicion. 

He’d been getting careless. He knew that. Part of him cared very little about it. Syn and her safety was his only concern these days. But he also knew that part of Syn’s safety relied on him keeping to his usual routines. Gritting his teeth, he armed himself with his usual weapons and left the Razor Crest ten minutes after her. 

Heading straight to the cantina, he went straight to Greef. The man was in his usual seat. He looked at Din with a scrutinizing look.

“Well he does emerge from wherever he’s hiding,” Greef said with a scoff. “With a pregnant lady in tow as I hear. What can I do for you?”

“I was having some problems with the Razor Crest,” Din lied carefully. “Having a paying passenger helped fix it. What have you got?”

Din could feel his gaze on him. He wasn’t buying the lie. The other man was watching him carefully.

“Bail jumper,” Greef said after a few moments pause, putting out a collection of bounty pucks. “Bail jumper. Another bail jumper.”

Din fought back a sigh. Work had been the same for the last few months. It was another reason why he’d stayed with Syn more than he should have. 

“I’ll take those two,” Din grabbed the nearest ones. 

“Mmm.” Greef was still giving Din the same scrutinizing look. “Are you still spending too much time at that Twi’lek Healing Bath?”

Din had told Syn about that on his last visit. To his relief, she had laughed hysterically about it. 

“Something like that.” Din stood up and tucked the bounty pucks into his armor. 

“Pretty girl who came off the ship with you,” Greef’s words made Din pause. “Where’d you pick her up?”

“Akiva,” Din kept his voice level. “She’s meeting her husband here.”

“Shame,” Greef said with a short laugh. “Baby in her arms and you’ve been away a lot. Some will talk.”

“Let them,” Din said flatly. It took all of his self control not to snap at the other man. “She’s just a paying passenger. I’ll be back in a few days.”

Din felt the other man’s gaze on his back as he left. A knot settled in his stomach as he walked through the bazaar. He was going to have to make good on that promise. He didn’t want to leave Syn but at least she would be safe here. 

As he stepped through the red cloth covering the entrance, he felt the tension ease in his body a little. Nodding to the guard, he hurried down the stairs and winding passages. As he came to the medical room, he pushed the door open. 

Syn was already bent over the prone figure, her face a mask of concentration. She spared him a brief glance with a quick upturn of her lips before going back to what she was doing. Did had no idea why he enjoyed watching her work so much. It was part of the reason he accompanied her more on his visits. The confident ease she moved with treating her patients was something he’d rarely seen in doctors. When he’d been sliced open on his last visit he was sure he was dead. The wound shouldn’t have been survivable. Yet, somehow she’d put him back together. The only reminder was an impressive scar she traced with her fingers in the darkness and the occasional twinge when he overworked his body. 

How a doctor of her skill ended up on a backwater skug hole like Osoria was a mystery. One he couldn’t put together. But he also couldn’t find it in his heart to press either. The haunted look of sadness whenever her sister was mentioned was something Din hated seeing. She never pressed him his past so he paid her the same favor. 

“This is a mess,” Syn said, mostly to herself. “I haven’t pieced together a spine in a long time.”

She moved away from the man lying on the table. Din came closer and peered over to the large incision in the man’s back. All he could see was a mess of body parts. As he looked closer, he noticed a helmet on the floor. A sheet was draped over the person’s upper back and head.

“Did you take his helmet off?” Din said sharper than he intended. The shock of it had made him recoil.

“Yes, because he needs to stay knocked out,” Syn said firmly. “We can argue about this later. Right now you’re either a help or hindrance to me. Decide which one it’s going to be.”

The realization hit Din like a pack of Bantha’s. He thought he’d stay knocked out because of the extent of his own injuries. It had never occurred to him Syn might have taken off his helmet. She had never said anything to him.

“Din,” Syn said sharper than his tone before. “You’re in or out.”

He turned on his heel, mind reeling from the revelation. Anger made his chest feel constricted as he walked out of the door. He slammed it louder than he intended. 

She’d seen him without his helmet. By rights, he shouldn’t be standing here. For a moment Din thought he was going to be sick. This had been his entire life. The Mandalorians had taken in him and ride him as their own. He owed this tribe his life. 

He was walking before he knew his feet were moving. He found himself in the tunnel leading back up to the bazar. He had two bounties to bring in. He could leave and give himself time to think about what to do next.

“Din.”

The sound of his given name made him turn around sharply. It was only then he heard the sound of a baby crying. It was the Armorer with the baby in her arms. If Din wasn’t feeling so angry it would have been an amusing sight. Syn held a baby with gentle ease. The Armorer looked as if she was holding her out not to get too close.

“She won’t settle,” the other woman sounded exasperated as she held the baby out. “I thought a familiar voice may help.”

His anger simmered as he took the squirming infant from her. Holding the baby to his chest made her cries instantly settle. The tightness in his chest eased a fraction as the cries went to mewling sounds. Any thought of leaving was quickly squashed at the feel of the infant settling against his armor. 

Din knew he had to hand her back. He had a job to do and needed to be far away from here. A task to focus on that didn’t involve his ridiculous daydreaming. The distracting voice in his mind that kept whispering about what he desired. That voice was the one he listened to when he flew from one side of the galaxy and back to Osoria because he couldn’t stand being away from Syn a second longer. He refused to put a feeling to the things the voice kept whispering about. He needed to drown it out and make it stop. The only way to do that was to put as much distance between him and Syn until he could get himself back in control. He’d been such a careless fool lately. He needed to stop this now.

“I have jobs,” Din forced himself to say. As he moved the baby, she started to whimper again. 

He instantly held her back to his chest, shushing her gently with a bounce. His steely resolve nearly shattered right then and there. 

“You have a job here,” the Armourer countered. “One that is more important than any bounty right now.”

Din wanted to argue. His tongue-tied as he looked down at the baby girl. Her face was screwed up in an impossibly large yawn before she looked up at him. His heart thawed instantly at the innocence in his arms. 

“I brought her back to be raised as a Foundling,” Din forced himself to say. “She will have a good life with the tribe.”

If Din hadn’t seen the communicator blinking, this wouldn’t be happening now. The moment the girl had opened her eyes and cried for all the world to hear, he was ready to do whatever he needed to protect the life that had been shoved in his arms. The strong instinct had hit him in an instant and had grown with every passing moment. 

“I am not saying she won’t,” the Armourer tone turned gentle. “Right now, she needs the only familiar thing she knows in this world.”

He couldn’t argue with that. Even the logical part of his mind knew that. He shifted the girl in his arms and cradled her closer. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. 

“Also, the next time you decide to slam the door in the medical wing, you may want to consider you’re not the only one in it,” the Armourer admonished him in her firm but tolerant manner. 

“My apologies,” Din bit back a heavy sigh. 

“What possessed you to have an argument with the good doctor right as she is about to piece a spine back together?”

There was no accusation in the Armourer’s tone. Din had known the woman since he was a young man. She’d always been wise but never tolerated fools or liars. Both would face her wrath swiftly.

“Syn took his helmet off,” Din found himself explaining without hesitation. “She should have been told it was forbidden.”

“She asked and she was told to do it,” the Armourer countered. “As she did with yours. She had my permission both times.”

Din felt like someone had thrown ice water over him. Then nothing but utter relief. There was guilt that came with that relief as well.

“We do not show our faces but sometimes drastic measures must be taken,” the Armourer continued. “She is a doctor and has shown nothing but respect for our ways. Our numbers are too few to waste precious lives when there is a chance they could be saved."

The inner turmoil settled with every word from the older woman. Din was extremely glad for her seeking him out before he left. If he’d gone and stewed for the next few days, his anger would have been uncontrollable the next time he saw Syn. It would have been ugly.

“Syn has seen my face,” Din said, more to himself than the other woman. “She never said anything.”

“She saved your life,” the Armourer said firmly. “And as soon as she could, placed your helmet back on. I stayed with her the entire time she worked on you.”

“Again.” Din found himself saying. 

Din vaguely remembered the few moments before he lost consciousness that day. Syn hadn’t hesitated in telling him the gravity of the situation and what she needed. 

“Again,” the Armourer agreed with a tilt of her head. “Don’t forget that.”

The baby on his chest started to grumble again. Din bounced her a little to get her to settle. 

“You may use my quarters,” the Armourer said. “I had someone put the baby’s supplies in there.”

The Armourer was one of the few who had her own living space. A privilege earned by her rank. It wasn’t a big space, but it allowed Din privacy with the baby. He was able to doze in-between feeding and trying to keep the infant quiet when she didn’t want to sleep. 

Din felt like he’d paced a hole in the floor, bouncing the girl who was crying uncontrollably when she wasn’t eating or sleeping. At least he had company. Nearly every tribe member came by to see if he needed help. Or to simply look at the baby. Din found it amusing that even some of the older hardened warriors cooed at the infant. 

They all left very quickly when she started to cry though. Right now he was bouncing her and putting her on the back as her screams reached ear piercing levels. The door opened and as Din turned to look to see who it was, he felt a warm spray cover him. He was half blinded as the projectile vomit obscured half his helmet and dripped down onto his clothes. 

Syn chose to walk in the door at that moment. 

They stood facing each other for the longest moment of Din’s life. Syn was so exhausted she was leaning against the doorway to keep herself upright. Much to his relief, her lips curved upwards in amusement.

“Did you forget to burp her after feeding?”

Din sighed. He never felt more out of his depth in his life. But the baby settled immediately after vomiting all over him.

“I’ll get you a towel,” Syn said, pushing herself off the doorway. 

“I’ve got it,” Din said, moving to the chair where he had the baby’s things out.

Despite his reassurance, Syn came over to help anyway. She swapped him the towel for the baby and sat down on the cot. 

Din cleaned himself, watching Syn as she fussed over the bundle in his arms. He couldn’t put words on the feeling he had when he saw her with the baby. His teasing about a whole platoon had slipped out unintentionally. When Syn had brought it up again before the flight to Nevarro, there’d been longing for something he never thought he would experience. A life outside his work and a family with her. It was too raw and foreign a concept to let himself linger on it. Though, he still owed Syn an apology from earlier.

“Syn,” he began as he wiped the mess off his helmet.

“Din,” she said at the exact same time. 

There was a pause as they both stopped.

“You first,” Din said, suddenly feeling a twinge of nerves. They had never come close to fighting. Syn was the most amicable person he knew. 

“I’m sorry for snapping earlier,” Syn said quietly, readjusting the baby. “And not telling you I took your helmet off.”

She swallowed audibly. Din could see she was nervous by the way she was fiddling with the blanket.

“I know,” Din felt a small measure of relief that this wasn’t going to turn into an argument. “I spoke to the Armorer and she told me and it was her who gave you permission. How did the surgery go?”

Syn sagged in relief, giving him a tired smile. 

“He’ll live, but whether he’ll walk again is the next problem.” Syn’s eyes turned down back to the baby. “He’s just a kid. I don’t know whether I did enough or not.”

“You have the best hands I know,” Din said, moving towards her. As he got close, she wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her head into his armor.

All the tension he’d been holding melted at her touch. He wrapped his arms around her as tightly as he could. There wasn’t an ounce of anger left in him now. 

“He’s going to be fine,” Din reassured her. “So are we.”

It could have been ugly. Din would have regretted it forever if he’d walked away from her in his earlier anger. Whether it had been intentional timing on the Armourer's behalf or not, he was extremely grateful for the intervention. 

“I spent that entire flight stressing about two things,” Syn’s voice was muffled in his armor. “Remembering how to fly and what I was going to do about keeping you under for surgery. Well, three if you count worrying if I was going to be able to save you or not.”

“But you did,” Din said quietly, hugging her tightly. “I’m sorry too.”

His voice cracked on the apology. He didn’t like to think of the what if’s. It was a distraction. One he never needed for his job. The thought that he nearly left today was haunting him. As was the fleeting thought of the fact she’d already seen him without the helmet and there was a temptation to take it off for good.

“When it hit me that you had taken off my helmet as well, I …” Din struggled to get the words out. “If someone takes it off, it’s never meant to go back on.”

“Doctor privilege is a wonderful thing,” Syn murmured tiredly. “It even extends to Mandalorian’s. I never learned that in medical school.”

He chuckled at her simple statement. He’d never thought of it that way. He was glad for it though. A simple solution for something that had nearly become a huge problem.

“You’re exhausted,” Din said gently. “Give me the baby and get some sleep.”

When Din pulled away from her, he could see the argument forming on her lips. It never formed into words. Syn haded the girl over. Din helped her lay down in the small cot as much as he could with his hands full. Thankfully the baby had stayed asleep during the whole conversation. 

“Din?” Syn’s voice was barely able audible. “She needs a name.”

“She does. We’ll talk about it when you wake up,” Din said gently. 

Syn was asleep before he finished.

Taking the baby into the bathroom, Din finished cleaning himself up. She began to grumble again, so he changed and fed her again. It felt like a never ending cycle. With nothing else to do, Din went back to the medical room and checked on Syn’s patient.

He was lying face down with his helmet back on. Din looked at the wound on his back. The incision was nearly stitched back together. 

Slug throwers were primitive weapons. Most people had gotten rid of them when blasters came about. Din couldn’t think of anyone who used them. The young Mandalorian had been extremely unlucky to be hit by one. If the initial shot didn’t kill, internal damage or infection easily could. 

Once again, Din found himself grateful for falling on Syn’s doorstep that night. It wasn’t only his debt now, it was also the tribes. 

The baby started crying again, so Din once again found himself pacing the hallways. A trend that continued for the next two days.

When Syn wasn’t with her patient or sleeping, she took over from him. By the end of the third day, Din was regretting his wish to ever want children. But when she wasn’t crying, throwing up, or having exploding diapers, she was adorable. Din found himself smitten. He knew he shouldn't get attached. His guardianship was a very temporary thing. So temporary he barely had time to think before it was over as abruptly as it started.

The Armorer had gotten in touch with others of the tribe who were more equipped to take care of a baby. The couple had arrived and Din found himself not willing to let go of the little bundle in his arms. 

She’d caused him to lose so much sleep. Din had to borrow another set of clothes because his had been pooped on in a diaper explosion this morning. The towel over his shoulder was soaked in vomit. Yet the cause of it all was currently gurgling up at him and the internal war was raging about letting her go. 

Syn wasn’t helping. Her lip had trembled when handing the girl over to Din. It had been in that moment when Syn had chosen a name.

Mia. 

Syn had told him that her sister had a longer name. Elamia. No one ever called her by that. Calling the baby Ela was too much of a reminder for Syn. But Mia suited her perfectly. 

“She just fed,” Din found himself stalling. “And changed. She’s been eating every few hours.”

Syn was by his side. She had been unusually quiet all morning. 

“She’ll be fine,” the woman Mandalorian said gently. “We do need to get back though. It is a long flight.”

Din had to get going as well. He’d been lingering for too long for his job. Syn had to get back to Osoria. The young Mandalorian who she’d worked on had woken up with most feeling back in his legs. Life had to go back to normal. Din thought he would have been relishing in the idea of an uninterupted night sleep and not being spit up on every hour. Instead, he was struggling to let go.

“Be good,” Din found himself saying to little Mia. “You mind your manners and be respectful.”

The baby blinked sleepily as she looked up at him. Din snuck a look down at Syn. Her eyes were bright and her smile was strained. 

Din swallowed back the lump in his throat as he held Mia out to the other Mandalorians. He hesitated at the last moment and pulled her back in for another hug. Syn wrapped her arms around both of them a second later. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Syn whispered hoarsely. 

“She’ll have a good life with them,” Din whispered back. “I’ll make sure of it.”

That was a promise he could keep. While these Mandalorians lived on another planet as a distant part of the tribe, he could still visit. They had reassured him of that five times now.

Syn nodded before letting them both go. This time Din handed Mia over and his grip released on the baby. 

His arms suddenly felt empty. As did his heart as he watched the baby walk out of his life.

Din looked down at Syn to see her dashing away a few errant tears. Suddenly, he was very glad for the helmet hiding his own tear filled eyes. As he watched them walk away, he felt like part of him was going with them. Syn slipped an arm around him and he pulled her closer to his side, resting his helmet on the top of her head. At least he still had her. For that, he was eternally grateful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's chapter is brought to you by a very wet and rainy day. I didn't think I'd get this finished but my usual Monday riding lessons was cancelled. The perfect excuse to write.
> 
> I did have another idea for how things were going to go. But while writing it, it felt out of character for both of them. We are very close to season 1 now with everyone's favourite little green guy about to make an appearance. 
> 
> Thank you for all the kudos and comments! I'm slowly getting around to replying to everyone as much as I can.


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